Tainted
by Final Frontier Voyager
Summary: An encounter with Lucifer and his most beloved pet. Angel vs Hellhound. Place your bets. A Team Free Will story, takes place sometime after 5x10 Abandon All Hope. NO SLASH, just hurt!Cas, our favorite.
1. Chapter 1: Surrounded

**A/N: Hi everyone, I hope you liked my first SPN fic, Escaping the Archangel; here's a new one. This will be a multichapter fic (but only if you people want it too hehe:) **

**Summary: The brothers and Castiel investigate a demon party preparing for a ritual and meet someone bigger: the King of Hellhounds... Takes place middle 5th season, after 5x10 Abandon All Hope (so please notice that Sam still has his soul:))**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.**

**Beta-read by InsideYourDreams24, thank you!

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**Tainted**

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Chapter 1: Surrounded

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"Are you sure this is the right place?" Dean asks as they enter the huge dark warehouse.

"Yeah," Sam mutters back and looks around, waiting for the horde of demons to appear but everything remains silent for the time being. "It all fits together. We're right at the center of the pentagram that has Christian churches at its vertices."

The brothers walk slowly in the half light, advancing further and further in the abandoned warehouse, prepared for an attack at any moment. Sam is armed with Ruby's knife, Dean with shotguns and the usual items; Castiel is following them with his typical stoic expression, looking absolutely ignorant to the fact that they could probably be surrounded by a crowd of demons any moment.

Another minute of silent walking and Dean starts to lose his patience. "There's no one here, man. That witch of yours must have been pulling your leg."

"They're coming," Castiel suddenly announces softly but firmly. "I can already feel their presence. They'll be here soon."

"That's good Cas because I can't wait to kick some demon asses," Dean jokes and lifts his gun just a little higher.

"Can you tell how many of them?" Sam asks with a serious and clearly anxious face.

"A lot," is the angel's simple answer and the words have never sounded more ominous than now.

Dean stops smiling at this but he notes though: "The more the better, and the less that will be left roaming outside the pit."

A cracking sound is heard from somewhere in the dark in front of them and the brothers look around more frantically to find the source of the noise. Dean only notices a little later that Castiel has stopped in his tracks behind them.

"What, Cas?"

"We should leave." The angel states plainly and there's something strange in his voice but the hunter can't yet determine what exactly it is.

"What's wrong?" Sam asks, even more nervously.

Castiel's eyes are unusually wide as he seemingly listens to the creatures only he can hear from the distance.

"There's something bigger coming with them," he says at last, then adds a little later: "Or rather someone."

"Who, Cas?" At last, Sam's anxiety has gotten to Dean as well, but the angel remains silent, just standing there as if even he himself didn't believe his words fully. "We should leave," he repeats confidently and the worry behind his words can now be heard clearly.

"Too late, boys," a cold female voice interrupts them and the Winchesters spin around to see a crowd of about fifteen people, men and women, each with the unmistakable black eyes. Their leader, a brown-haired girl stands slightly closer to them than the others, smiling widely at the trio. "Hi Dean, hi Sam, and oh – you brought a special guest!" Her eyes wander on Castiel, almost too casually as she takes in the angel from head to toe. "An angel always means something exceptional... Did you mean him as a gift to us?"

"Someone tell me why is it always the hottest chick of town that happens to be the leader of the shitty demon horde?" Dean mutters. "How I hate those bitches."

Sam thinks about Ruby but doesn't say a thing.

"Well thank you Dean," the demon continues, slowly walking closer to them while the others stay behind. "I can assure you, I have the same impressive opinion of you. Don't worry; I don't want to chat too much more. Now that you were kind enough to show up on our upcoming ritual, I might as well get back my sister's weapon. Maybe we can make a deal?"

"What's so bad about a bunch of demons?" Dean whispers back to Castiel. "Sam and I have already killed a lot more than that."

The angel stays still, not saying anything but gazing somewhere into the distance.

"So boys?" The girl asks in a taunting tone.

"Well all I can say," Dean shouts back, "take it if you can, and kiss my ass while trying."

With that he lifts the gun and aims right between the demon's eyes, but just before he could pull the trigger, she yanks it out of his hands with a smooth move of her hand. Behind her the group also sets off towards the boys and Castiel. Five of them close around Sam who holds the knife high, ready to defend himself. Another four head up to Dean and the demon girl; the hunter keeps turning around, trying not to lose any of them from his sight. He pulls out a tiny, pink and rather childish-looking water pistol, but before the demons could have time to laugh, holy water hits them in the face and chest with a hissing noise. They scream and back away but it's not holding them back for too long; recovering from the attack they come close again, one of them catching Dean's wrist, another getting hold of the pistol and pulling at the hunter's arm, immobilizing him while the leader delivers a couple of kicks to his stomach. Dean groans out in pain and Sam is too busy to help with five or six attackers of his own; but the angel suddenly appears out of nowhere and drives his blade through the back of the demon holding Dean's arm.

For a moment everything silences; humans and demons are all looking at the dying one that collapses slowly on the floor, vibrating in red through his eyes and mouth before fading. Nothing can be heard apart from the breathing of the others, then the leader of the horde hisses: "Kill them!"

Suddenly all hell breaks loose as the demons attack the brothers with new force, obviously angered by the death of their fellow demon. Dean, who has got a hold on the water pistol again, shoots around fiercely; and Sam manages to slice two throats with Ruby's knife while the demons are distracted. In the other side of the room, Castiel is also surrounded, but it doesn't seem like he's in need of much help: the angel blade is working its way through demonic flesh and blood and when it doesn't prove enough, a ray of blinding white light sparks up for a millisecond leaving howling and eyeless demons behind.

The trio doesn't get the chance to finish what they have started. All of a sudden lights flash up everywhere in the room; the seemingly out-of-work lamps of the old warehouse start gleaming with an unusual brightness. Dean unconsciously takes a step backwards; the demons back away from him too. The blade trembles in Castiel's hand.

"Oh don't stop because of me, my friends," a deep and smooth voice says from the far end of the building. "I really don't require all these formalities."

A figure steps out into the light of the lamps; not too tall but not too short either. He looks no more than a simple man but suddenly a silent wave of respect swipes through the group of demons that are still alive. The brothers look at each other, Castiel has been right again.

"Lucifer," Sam whispers.

"Hello, Sam," Lucifer nods, smiling.

The remaining demons, still about ten of them, slowly leave their targets and close up next to him. Castiel also walks up to the Winchesters and stands still, looking right in the eyes of his brother. Lucifer senses his gaze.

"Oh greetings, brother," he stands the angel's stare. "I see you're still tailed to our boys here. It should mean something deeper now, shouldn't it? Or am I wrong?" He teases them, looking almost delighted about his own joke.

Castiel doesn't answer and Dean suddenly realizes, terrified, that the angel is not looking at the devil anymore but at the mere air beside Lucifer's left shoulder. Something occurs to the hunter and the hair on the back of his neck is suddenly standing on edge. The chill he feels is all too familiar.

Lucifer follows his brother's gaze and his smile widens. "Oh, I almost forgot." He pats something at the height of his shoulder. "Isn't he beautiful?"

His words are clearly addressed to Castiel, because Sam is sure there's nothing to see there where the devil's hand hangs in the air.

"What's that, Cas?"

"A hellhound," the angel answers and hearing this Dean closes his eyes because his worst fear has just been proved right.

"Oh, not_just_ a hellhound," Lucifer shakes his head. "He's the greatest of all hellhounds, the king of them. And he's my most faithful follower. Meet Cerberus."

"Cerberus?" Sam asks, whispering. "Like the dog that guards the entrance of hell in Greek and Latin mythology?"

"As for having three heads, yes," Castiel nods.

"_What_?" Dean can't believe his ears.

The angel looks at him. "Believe me," he says very seriously, "you don't want to see him."

'_Sure thing Cas,'_Dean natters mentally, _'you're only forgetting that it's not the looks but the ability to see where exactly to shoot is what I'm more concerned about…'_

"Don't say that Castiel," Lucifer interrupts, still in a teasing voice. "He's the most beautiful of all of them. That's why he is my favorite. I'm so sorry I can't see how you will get to know each other, but I have other things to tend to at the moment. But don't worry; I leave him here for you to play. I'm sure he'll like you a lot, Dean."

Dean doesn't return the devil's taunting smile. In fact, he isn't even looking at Lucifer but at the empty air next to him, eager to see the three-headed monster that is starving for his blood. He almost doesn't see the devil leave.

"Just continue what you've begun," Lucifer says, "as if I never was here. Goodbye, everyone. Oh, and Cindy," he addresses the brown-haired demon girl, "remember not to kill the vessel. You know, the more precious one… however, I don't forbid you to play a little with him. Have fun!"

With that, he's no longer there. The moment he's gone, all the lamps go out again in the warehouse except for one, one that remains vibrating annoyingly. Somewhere from where Lucifer has been standing, a deep and threatening growl comes. Dean turns his head frantically around looking for the shotgun, as if it was his only chance to survive.

"Any tips how we can put a muzzle on Spikey, Cas?"

The angel bites back the question about the identity of 'Spikey' as there is no doubt what the hunter is talking about. "Don't worry about him," he says instead. "I will take care of the hellhound. Will you be able to manage with the demons?"

Sam wants to say yes right away; there is nothing he wants more right now than to have that beast as far from his brother as possible. But Dean is quicker with the answer.

"You sure, Cas? Because I heard Lucifer and it seems to me that this Cerberus or whatever is the big deal, the king of all hounds and everything. Do you even stand a chance against him?"

The angel looks back at him and his gaze is somewhat similar to that one he wore when they met for the first time and he told Dean his problem was the lack of faith. "Whatever chance I have," he finally says slowly, "is still a lot more than you would have. Or Sam."

And Dean can't argue with this. Castiel sets off towards the growling air in the far end of the room, and this is the last Dean sees of him because the demons attack again and he and Sam are forced to push their backs up against each other and fight.

They can't hold their position for too long though; the demon girl throws up her arms and both Winchesters are sent flying into two opposite corners. Sam loses Ruby's knife as he hits the wall; it flies out of reach somewhere in the dark.

"Dammit!"

One of the demons hits him in the face, another one catches his neck.

"You want it, don't you?" A black-eyed, red-haired girl hisses, grinning. "You wanna drink my blood, right? You know what? You're worse than vampires, because vampires drink human blood, and which one do you consider less noble, your blood or ours?"

Sam tries not to listen to her, but he can't deny that he does smell the odor, or rather, scent of demon blood steaming from her nose and mouth every time she breathes. Maybe it is the desire that gives him the strength, and for a small amount of time he obeys it, but ready to stop himself if it comes to the real deal. He pushes both demons aside and punches the girl so that she hits the wall right at the place where he was just a moment ago. The other demon receives a kick to his stomach and using their distraction, Sam dives for the knife, or at least in the direction where he hopes the knife has fallen. He has miscalculated only with a couple of inches; the demon recovers too quickly, catching his ankle and falling on top of him as they hit the floor. Strong hands find the younger Winchester's throat and he finds himself running out of breath once again. But now he can't push himself up with a rush of adrenaline; there's no scent of blood this time as he struggles to get air through his mouth and not his nose.

Just as his vision starts to blurry, his thrashing right hand finally finds the knife. It takes only a swift movement of his arm and the next moment the demon is stretched out on the floor next to him, already dead as his blood soaks the ground. Sam practically flees away from it, trying to outrun the awakening desire in him. He quickly finds the red-haired demon and finishes her off even more quickly, then turns around, panting and looking for more opportunities to distract himself from the growing need.

Castiel and his invisible opponent are nowhere to be seen, so Sam heads for Dean who is surrounded completely and seemingly doesn't have the upper hand as he is being punched repeatedly by the leader woman; the water pistol lies at his feet, empty.

The knife works its way through a demon's neck as easily as the angel blade did mere minutes ago. The remaining ones only realize the new attacker after another of their own is stabbed and fades away.

"About damn time man," Dean groans as he is finally released. The demons that are still alive close around Sam this time and Dean goes searching for his gun, failing to find it but spotting a crowbar instead. It won't kill the sons-of-bitches, but it can still be used as a weapon of some kind, which is proved soon enough as he takes a demon down by a powerful blow to the back of his head.

Ruby's knife gets kicked out of Sam's hand again, but Dean is there and takes hold of it. The brown-haired girl launches herself at him, but as she knocks the hunter off his feet she is greeted with the knife sinking gloriously into her heart.

"Dean!" He hears Sam yell and quickly pushes the girl's body off of himself.

As the last demon slides to the floor, dead by the knife sent into him by Dean, the old warehouse suddenly falls unusually silent. Nothing can be heard apart from Sam's loud panting and the disgusting, sticky sound of the knife being pulled out of the last demon's back.

"You okay?" Dean asks. They'd had tougher fights, but it wasn't a walk in the park either.

Sam nods. "Um… where's Cas?"

The older Winchester looks around, but there's no sign of the angel, neither the three-headed hellhound Cerberus.

"Cas?" Dean calls out loudly, but no answer comes. "Dammit, where the hell is he?"

"I hope he's all right," Sam mutters. "We would've already been accompanied by Cerberus if he…" He doesn't finish the sentence and Dean doesn't even want to hear it.

"That's right. Where's that damn dog?" He asks a little louder, anger and worry mixed in his voice.

"He's dead," a familiar gruff voice suddenly answers him from the far end of the warehouse.

Castiel is standing in the door they came in through, as if he had just dropped in, but somehow he looks a bit too weary; he's leaning heavy on the doorframe and as he starts walking towards them, it seems like he's still groping at the wall for support. Dean notices that he's also limping a bit, only a short before the angel collapses; falling against the wall first then sliding down along it as if he was still trying to get his balance back, but landing on the floor eventually.

"_Cas_!"

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**Uh oh... I know... best place to leave off...**

**Please review if you think I should continue!:)**


	2. Chapter 2: Wounded

**A/N: Welcome back... I know it's been long, I'm sorry for keeping you waiting, but I hope this chapter will be enough of a compensation...:) It's about what happened to Castiel while the brothers were busy with the demons... hope you'll enjoy it!**

**Thanks to InsideYourDreams24 for beta-reading!**

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Chapter 2: Wounded

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Castiel doesn't look away from his enemy as he walks towards him calmly; not even for a moment. He doesn't really know which pair of eyes he should look into though as each of the hellhound's three heads is turned towards him, each mouth is salivating and each throat is growling threateningly.

Castiel knows a lot about hellhounds, although he has never fought them in his life. He has fought with thousands of demons in countless battles, but the dogs – they were a lot rarer. They usually came up from the pit only when someone's time was over after making a bargain on a crossroad; sometimes they accompanied high-level demons in battles, but now that Lucifer has unleashed a lot of hellhounds along with his rise, they've started joining groups of demons more often these days.

The angel has never fought a hellhound, at least not alone; he only took part in greater battles with hundreds of his brothers and sisters by his side, yet he is almost sure he can manage one of these monsters on his own.

However, looking at Cerberus he's becoming less and less surer. He has never seen a hellhound this enormous, never seen one with three heads, and never knew the devil had his own pet, which was probably the best trained of all.

Castiel knows it will be tough with this one, but he won't give up; he's an angel of the Lord, a well-trained soldier too, and he's not short of faith at all. The angel blade springs into his hand and he grips it tight, knowing it's his only weapon against the hellish creature. Showing his true form or smiting it like he was by the archangel not too long ago would just slow them down or blind them at best, but there are only two ways you can kill a hellhound if you have a powerful blade. Castiel also knows that one of them is to cut down all heads, doesn't matter how many there are; the other one is to stab them right through the heart.

Cerberus growls even more fiercely as the angel approaches, his right head even barks at him. Castiel lifts the sword just in time to cut into the hellhound that suddenly jumps at him. Momentum forces him off his balance and he steps backwards, but the whimpering of the dog assures him of the success of his self-defense. Cerberus barks again with his two uninjured heads and launches himself at the angel again. This time Castiel is more prepared: he sends a bolt of light at the hellhound from his left palm, managing to blind temporarily two pairs of eyes, but the third head remains untouched and it catches the trench coat on the angel's arm, barely missing the flesh with its teeth. Castiel tries to push the blade at least somewhere near the heart of his attacker, which results in Cerberus shaking his heads wildly and throwing the angel straight through the door.

After landing hard on the ground outside the warehouse, Castiel recovers quickly but only has enough time to shot upwards into the air before the hellhound jumps right on the spot he was a millisecond ago. Three out of six eyes are bleeding but Cerberus can still see and he's three times wilder now than he was at the beginning.

There is one important reason why most of the angels, Castiel included, don't like flying during a fight, and it is that temporary loss of sense of direction, no more than a split of a second, but even this little amount of time can be fatal in a battle. Castiel always avoids it if he can, but now as he had no other chance but to fly away from the mad hellhound, he knows right away that he has made a mistake. That split second while he tries to re-adjust to his position at the wall is enough for Cerberus to find him and jump at him again. This time the angel only has time to lift the sword in front of his face to defend himself, but the dog is also prepared and goes not for the blade but the arm that holds it.

Castiel can't avoid crying out as razor-sharp teeth sink deep into his right wrist; he also hears rather than feels the unmistakable crack of bone. He is pushed against the wall of the building and distantly feels Cerberus' claws on his thigh as the hellhound stands up on two legs in an attempt to keep him trapped. The angel wonders for a moment why it's hurting more than usually; he can barely avoid dropping the sword with his trembling fingers. Since his right hand is immobilized, he quickly takes the blade in his left hand and slices at the neck of Cerberus' right head in an attempt to cut it off. His wrist is immediately free and the dog whimpers; the right head has not been cut off but it looks lifeless now and blood is flowing heavily from the deep gash on the neck.

Castiel's arm is bleeding heavily too; the angel tries to stop it, to make the vessel's body heal, but for some reason he fails. He stares at the broken wrist for a moment, stunned and not quite understanding what's happening, why it doesn't heal when he can definitely feel his grace. But there's not much time to think as the hellhound attacks again, and Castiel is forced to fight with his left hand.

The hellhound's heart is quite difficult to reach so the angel goes for eliminating the other two heads. But Cerberus doesn't give his life easily and the wound that's refusing to heal doesn't help Castiel either. He forms another bolt of light in his hand and it takes a lot more energy from him this time, but it's still effective; Cerberus whimpers and backs away, giving Castiel the chance to gain the upper hand. He launches forward, blade reaching the middle head but then he is yanked again by the coat that the left head has caught and he is thrown into the air for the second time this day.

He barely lands on his stomach, barely notices that he has lost the knife when he can already feel the thud of the hellhound's paws connecting with the ground after a huge jump, and the next moment Castiel screams out as sharp claws tear through his back and into his wings.

He screams long and loud because nothing can be compared to the pain of an injured wing, and hellhounds are one of the few creatures that can make significant damage to them. He arches in agony, limbs paralyzed, and doesn't even feel that the claws don't stop at the wings. They tear further down the back but at the moment the angel is ignorant to it. Right now he can only feel one spot on his body; the one little below the shoulder blades, where the wings fold out of the human body and the angel's true form is connected with the vessel. It is burning with red hot pain and for a moment Castiel thinks he's dying; if the injury to his wings doesn't kill him, Cerberus will finish his work.

But then his groping left hand suddenly finds the angel blade that has fallen on the ground. Castiel knows he only has one chance.

He throws himself upwards and quickly turns onto his back mid-air between the enormous paws, ignoring the pain that flares up in his wings immediately, and with his last strength he pushes the blade upwards, penetrating Cerberus' chest and impaling his heart.

The huge creature only gives a soft whimper before falling completely silent and collapsing with all his weight onto the angel's chest. Castiel screams again and tears of agony wet his eyes as an extra three hundred pounds press his back to the floor beneath them.

By the time he manages to fight himself free from under the corpse of the beast, the angel feels like he's about to die again. His wings feel as if they were on fire and now he can feel the bitten wrist too; it's not only hurting like hell but it has also started to feel strangely numb as if some kind of poison has been seeping into his veins.

Poison! Castiel suddenly understands why he's unable to heal himself. Hellhounds' saliva is a very powerful thing; it's horrible if it gets into an angel's bloodstream. Castiel sighs and tries to stand up. He's got to get back to Sam and Dean, to see if they need any help. As if he could be much help in his current state, but he has to try his best anyway.

Trying to walk back, Castiel discovers is a lot harder than he has expected. He appears to have trouble walking straight: one of his legs is acting strangely. In fact, it trembles and threatens to buckle every time he puts some weight on it. Looking down Castiel is faced with more blood, soaking the trench coat as well as his pants. He doesn't know where the blood comes from, Cerberus or him, and which body part of him, but he doesn't even care; only concentrates on his next mission.

Finding Sam and Dean; and if needed, protecting them.

He limps back to the door; no sounds can be heard from the inside. This can either mean good or bad. The Winchester may have been knocked out or even killed, but this can be said of the demons too, and Castiel has a strong hope it would be the latter.

This hope soon gets proven right as he hears an annoyed voice that is very much like Dean's.

"Where's that damn dog?"

Castiel steps in the door. "He's dead," he announces, relief rushing through him as the sight that meets him is exactly what he has expected. All demons are lying on the floor dead; the only standing ones are the somewhat battered brothers. He sets off towards them, feeling more and more unstable by the moment, reaching unconsciously towards the wall for support. He can feel Dean's worrying gaze on himself as he approaches; it seems as if the older hunter saw something strange on him.

Just as he almost reaches them, he suddenly trips over, his left leg giving it up completely under his weight. Castiel looks down as he falls against the wall, confused about the limb denying his mind's orders. The leg is shaking violently and refuses to hold even the smallest of the vessel's weight, as if it had a will of its own; and Castiel soon finds himself collapsing on the floor like the demons and Cerberus did a couple of minutes ago.

"Cas!"

Dean Winchester's anxious shout echoes through the building.

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**Okay, I know we're right at the spot where we left off in the previous chapter too... but don't worry, the next one will move things on.**

**Please review if you liked it! It makes me really really happy and keeps me motivated!:)**


	3. Chapter 3: Tainted

**A/N: Hi everyone, if you remember me, I'm terribly sorry for the delay again. Winter exams are keeping me busy and will be doing it for a while but I won't abandon the story, I promise!**

**So here you go, a nice long chapter as a compensation, in what Cas finally gets the helping hand he's been waiting for more than two weeks now...:) Enjoy! Oh and thanks to InsideYourDreams24 for betaing and the wonderful feedbacks!**

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Chapter 3: Tainted

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"Cas!"

Dean sees the angel fall and rushes to his side in less than two seconds. Castiel barely avoids hitting his head on the floor as his right hand refuses to stop his fall; he catches himself with his left just in time.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean grabs the angel's shoulder to give him some support. "Cas, you okay? What happened?"

The next moment Sam also arrives, taking Castiel's other arm.

"Cerberus is dead," Castiel pants, "you don't have to worry about him anymore."

Dean can't help but grin widely, "Now that's my angel! I knew you would do it. Bet Lucifer will be all pissed you killed his Chihuahua!"

But Sam's face is serious and worrying, "Are you hurt? Is this blood all yours?"

The angel looks over himself, unsurely. "I… don't know. Part of it is definitely mine."

Fresh blood on the arm of the trench coat catches Dean's eye as well. "Cas, why aren't you healing yourself?"

The angel looks up at them. "I can't."

"What?" The brothers ask in unison.

"He has bitten me," Castiel explains and lifts his broken wrist. It's still bleeding and the once light colored trench coat is now dark and soaked with red. "His saliva has gotten into my bloodstream and it is blocking some of my powers, healing included."

"God," Dean whispers and he takes Castiel's wrist to examine it. The injury looks bad; there are deep tooth marks all around, the bone fragments are out of place so that the hand is twisted in an awkward angle; and Castiel seems quite unable to move his fingers. "Looks to me like it's a miracle he didn't bite your whole arm off."

"Your leg is bleeding too," Sam remarks and there is something very close to fear in his voice. Castiel hurries to calm them. "There is no need to worry about me. It will clear out of my system in a couple of days, and after that I'll be able to heal myself."

"In a couple of days you'll have bled out," Sam informs him almost angrily, "Even in a couple of hours, if you ask me. You have to be patched up."

"Don't worry Cas, we've done a lot of patching, trust me," Dean says at the angel's confused glare. "We have quite a lot experience. I think I've even dealt with a hand like this once."

He would start working on it right away if Castiel didn't stop him. "Not here," he warns. "Demons can be coming back any minute. As you said, Lucifer is probably quite upset that I killed Cerberus, and I'm afraid I wouldn't have even the slightest chance against him right now."

"Fine," Dean nods. "We're going back to the motel, but don't you dare to go unconscious on us or I'll kick your feathered ass, do you hear me?"

"Yes Dean," Castiel says, not quite understanding why the hunter suddenly sounds so angry.

"Okay come on, we'll get you up." The older Winchester hoists Castiel up by the upper arm, reaching to his back in order to hold him stable but letting it go right away, alarmed at the angel's sudden cry of pain. Castiel's legs are buckling again and if it wasn't for Sam, he would have ended up on the floor once more.

"Whoa, whoa, what's wrong?" Dean asks, scared and guilty by the fact that he was the one who caused the pain.

"Don't…" Castiel groans, "touch… my back."

"What? Why?"

"Just… don't touch it."

Dean takes hold of the angel's shoulder, careful and confused, and peeks over it at Castiel's back. It is clear he's injured there too: the trench coat is all bloodied but the hunter can see four long, parallel cuts running across the angel's back, from the shoulders right down to the waist.

"What the hell…?"

The angel is gritting his teeth as if he was fighting with the words. "He has wounded a part of my true form."

"Your wings?" Sam asks in disbelief; he has always been the quicker thinking one.

"Jeez, Cas, tell me that son of a bitch didn't tear them off!" Dean's voice is full of horror this time.

"No, he didn't," Castiel closes his eyes and the relief is visible on both Winchester's face. "But since they belong to my real body, I can feel them a lot… clearer than the body of the vessel."

"So they hurt a lot more, I get it," Dean nods. "But now we have to go, you said we don't have much time."

They hurryingly carry the wounded angel out of the warehouse and to the Impala. The night is dark and silent, there is no sign of the new wave of demons yet as the brothers help Castiel into the backseat. He is laid down on his side in order not to hurt his wings even more by leaning back on the seat; he doesn't say it to the Winchesters but he is already starting to feel strange, as if he was caught in a hurricane while flying, fighting to get over the winds as they keep throwing him around; the motion of the car only makes this feeling even more realistic.

Dean steps hard on the gas; he doesn't remember ever driving this fast, but the roads are empty in this late hour and no one gets in his way till he reaches the small motel they're staying in. The receptionist is awake but Sam manages to bind her attention while Dean drags the limping angel up the stairs.

Once in the safety of their own room they lower Castiel down onto the bed in a sitting position. He looks pale and groggy and the bleeding still hasn't stopped.

"Okay," Dean says. "Sam, bring the first aid kit. How do you feel Cas?"

"Like… I was flying backwards," he answers then adds a little later, "upside down."

"Yeah, that's called dizziness," Dean smiles encouragingly. "Massive blood loss can make that to you. You're still losing too much. Sam, you deal with the leg. We need to stop the bleeding now."

"Sure," the younger hunter nods and opens the first aid kit. They'll need antiseptic first, and a lot of bandage.

"Let me look at that arm then," Dean says and takes Castiel's wrist in his hands. "Can you move your fingers?"

Castiel looks down at his hand, but the ends of his fingers barely move half an inch.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dean murmurs as he touches the shape of the broken limb further.

Castiel gasps; the movement is obviously causing him pain. "It's… somehow too sensitive. I usually don't feel the vessel's injuries this much."

Dean remembers the first time they met; how he stabbed the angel right through the heart with Ruby's knife and how Castiel didn't give even the smallest sign of pain; he remembers how he punched him in Zachariah's room. Damn right.

"It must be caused by the hellhound's saliva too," Castiel grimaces, "it has weakened me. But it won't last more than a couple of…"

"Okay, just shut up," Dean commands, "Don't speak, save your strength. This might sting a bit."

With that, he twists the angel's wrist back, just enough to hear the bones snap into place. Castiel screams out and jerks, nearly kicking Sam in the face.

"Why did you do that?" He asks as he's finally able to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Dean hurries to apologize, "Just had to pop it back in the right place so it won't heal the wrong way."

Castiel nods weakly and closes his eyes but doesn't pull his wrist out of Dean's hands; he would trust the hunter even with his life.

"Yeah, Dean's not the gentlest person when it comes to patching someone up," Sam grins as he tends to the deep claw marks on the angel's legs. They look ugly too; each about an inch deep, running from the middle of his thigh all the way down to the shin. It appears that Castiel is losing most of the blood through these gashes, so Sam starts cleaning them quickly.

"What are you doing?" The angel's hoarse voice distracts him from the silent working. Looking up Sam sees that Castiel is watching him, head cocked sideways and there's curiosity in his gaze.

"Cleaning your wounds," the younger Winchester answers simply.

"They're not dirty," Castiel doesn't seem to understand; his pants are dirty though from the fight in the warehouse, but it's not the pants that are being dealt with.

Sam chuckles. "It's for preventing infections from getting in," he explains. "Now hold it here," he tells the angel to put pressure on his bandaged thigh. "I hope the bleeding will stop soon."

Finishing with the leg, Sam stands up to take a look at Castiel's back. The gashes here don't seem to be that deep; the layers of clothing have prevented the hellhound's claws from penetrating deeper. Only a couple of stitches in one or two places and it will be okay, Sam estimates. Dean is still working on the wrist, very careful to hold it in place while bandaging.

"Cas you'll need to take off the coat," Sam says, "The suit too. I need to look at your back."

"I doubt you could help anything with my…" Castiel starts, but Sam cuts him off.

"I know. But there are wounds on your back that need to be stitched."

"Strange," the angel remarks as he tries to look over his own shoulder. "I don't even feel them."

"Better for you," Dean mutters as they help him out of his clothes, then returns to mending the wrist.

Sam starts cleaning the long gashes on the angel's back; they had already stopped bleeding, but the young hunter is very careful, not wanting to cause pain to the wings. He can't see them, but something still catches his attention. There's an absence of the claw marks next to Jimmy Novak's shoulder blades; two out of the four disappears completely just to re-appear again up at the shoulders, the other two are there but they're significantly less deep than in the other places; barely just scratches. Sam looks at them very closely but doesn't dare to touch; it looks too much as if the claws there had sunk into feathers first and just after that the skin. So he tries to start the cleaning from the edges of this suspicious part but he can't be careful enough and Castiel cries out, jerking forward.

"Whoa," Dean knits his brows. "Easy."

"That hurt," the angel says breathlessly and his grimace betrays that the pain doesn't go away as fast as it has come.

"I'm sorry," Sam apologizes. "I just can't see where…"

"What's it like?" Dean asks, "I mean… you said you could barely feel the other wounds…"

"We feel the vessel's injuries differently," Castiel explains, "because they're not really our own. But when our true form is hurt…"

"Then?" Dean urges him.

Castiel hesitates as if he was searching for the right expression. "Can you recall the greatest pain you've ever felt in your life?"

Memories of Hell flood Dean's mind and he nods silently.

"I'd say, it's about twenty times worse," Castiel states indifferently.

Dean can't answer to that. He turns his attention back to fixing the wrist; Sam to the back, and silent minutes of working pass.

After what seems like hours of silence, the brothers lay the finishing touches on Jimmy Novak's battered body.

"Hey Cas, you're good," Dean says and pats the angel on the shoulder.

Castiel doesn't react; just stares at the floor through half-closed eyelids.

"Hey! Houston?" Dean waves his hand in front of the angel's face. Castiel blinks and looks up at the hunter.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" He asks with a heavy tongue.

"That's it," Dean stands up. "You have to rest." With Sam's agreeing nod, Dean helps the shirt back on Castiel and the brothers ease him down on the bed, carefully on his side.

"I don't need to sleep," Castiel feels the urge to inform them.

"Yeah, whatever. Just stay here and relax, okay?" Dean says. "Until that crap clears out of you, better not move around too much. After you healed yourself, you can do anything you want, I promise."

There is one free bed left for the brothers. Sam throws a questioning glance towards Dean, but the older Winchester doesn't look back at him; simply grabs a beer and lowers himself into the chair in front of the TV, turning it on but being careful to keep the volume down. The question is decided for him. Getting his message, Sam sits down on the other bed. Dean looks like he's going to sleep in the chair, or rather, keeping vigil over his injured angel. Either way, Sam is free to take the other bed, so he lies down and tries to sleep, which, to his wonder, is not that hard at all after this long day.

* * *

**Okay, I actually made an effort here not to create another cliffhanger:D**

**I'm an addict for reviews. I really am! Each one makes me smile constantly for the next 24 hours (yeah, even in my sleep!) so please, if you think reading this story wasn't a waste of time, tell me!:)  
**


	4. Chapter 4: Chased

**A/N: Happy 2011 to everyone! I know I've left you without an update for the past weeks, but I assume everyone was busy enough with the holiday events not to miss my story!**

**It's a longer chapter, hope you'll be satisfied! Beta-read by InsideYourDreams24. Enjoy!**

* * *

Chapter 4: Chased

* * *

Castiel is not sleeping; he has never slept in his life. In fact, he doesn't even know how to. Though he would probably be able to do it if he wanted to, just like eating, but he has no idea how to try, apart from lying still and breathing smoothly. He closes his eyes but he is still aware of his surroundings; the sounds in the room, Sam's quiet breathing on the other bed, the murmuring of the TV and sometimes the swallowing sound indicating that Dean has taken another sip of his beer.

And the silent talking. He can feel demons in the distance; he can feel Lucifer's rage over the loss of Cerberus. But they're far from here, thousands of miles away and therefore mean no threat to the three of them at the moment. Castiel can truly relax at this thought.

Hours pass. Slight snoring is coming from Dean who has long fallen asleep in front of the TV that is still on, broadcasting some late night music videos. Sam moans softly in his sleep; he's probably dreaming but the moan doesn't betray anything about whether the dream is a good or a bad one.

The angel has lost track of time. He simply doesn't know where it has disappeared; the next thing he's aware is the morning light seeping into the room between the curtains. Sam appears to be waking up; he turns to his back and yawns, his gaze falling to the other bed where Castiel lies in the same position he was laid down and their eyes meet. Apart from Dean's peaceful snoring everything is silent and the silence feels odd to Castiel, as if he was supposed to say something but didn't know what. Sam, however, foregoes him.

"Morning," he yawns again and sits up.

"Morning," the angel repeats, assuming it is the right thing to do, although he doesn't really understand why it is needed to confirm morning when it's seemingly obvious.

Mimicking the younger Winchester Castiel also tries to sit up, but it proves to be a lot harder task than expected. His limbs have gone numb and he has forgotten about his broken wrist but remembers it right away as he tries to push himself up with the right hand and the burning pain catches him off guard.

"Hey, hey," Sam gets out of his bed quickly to help him. "Easy. Are you still in pain?"

"Yes," Castiel admits, panting. "But it wasn't so bad when I was not moving."

"Yeah, then you should lie right back down," Sam suggests. "I can bring you something if you're hungry…"

The angel shakes his head. "I don't want to lie back. I grew kind of stiff during the night. It's highly uncomfortable. And I'm not hungry either."

"Fine," Sam nods. "Then sit here and try to avoid moving around too much. But you need to drink water, to compensate the blood loss. It isn't doing any good if your body is running low on liquid."

Castiel nods obediently. As long as he's not able to restore the health of the vessel himself, he has no choice but to trust the Winchesters' knowledge of human healing methods.

A particularly large snore coming from the armchair indicates that Dean is also waking up.

"Morning," Castiel shows his newly learned manner.

The older hunter peeks over the back of the chair. His face is extremely sleepy and his eyes are slightly bloodshot.

"Wow Cas, are you all right?" He asks in a deep, raspy morning voice. "Cause I think I just heard you being polite."

Castiel cocks his head to the side and looks at him with a questioning gaze.

"Okay man, I didn't say a thing," Dean yawns and gets up, heading for the bathroom. Sam is back with the glass of water, which Castiel takes a little hesitantly but then downing the whole in two gulps.

"That felt good," he admits.

"Wow Cas, you must have been thirsty, why didn't you say something?" Sam shakes his head in disbelief as he takes the empty glass from the angel.

"I didn't realize," he answers simply.

Sam grins and stands up to head back to the kitchen, but the sudden change of Castiel's expression makes him stop.

"What's wrong?"

The angel looks up at him with a slight delay, "Demons. I can feel demons coming here."

"What?"

"They appear to know where we are." For a moment Sam thinks he can see a spark of fear in Castiel's blue eyes and hear a hint of panic in his voice.

"But… how?"

The angel looks down at his bandaged wrist, looking somewhat guilty. "They have hellhounds with them. They must have… smelled my tainted blood."

"Dammit!" Sam swears. "How many of them?"

"A lot. More than yesterday."

"What do we do? Can we fight them?"

"Not this time," the angel shakes his head. "There are at least thirty of them, hellhounds as well, and I doubt I could be much help in my state. We have to leave. Now."

"Okay," Sam turns on his heel. "Dean!" He yells through the bathroom door.

"Wait for your turn, Sammy," Dean yells back from under the shower. "You're a big boy; you have to learn to be patient."

"Dean, demons are coming," Sam informs him and his words take effect right away. The water is stopped and a couple of seconds later a half clothed and very wet Dean tears open the door.

"_What? Demons?_"

His brother nods towards Castiel with his head. "He said he can feel them coming. Their hellhounds have smelled Cas' blood."

"Sonuvabitch," Dean mutters, pulling up a shirt and his jacket. "Where's my gun?"

Castiel has managed to stand up by now and is balancing on one functioning leg. "You can't fight them, Dean, neither can I. There are too many of them. We need to leave as soon as w can."

He can barely finish the sentence when a loud bang is heard and the door opens only to reveal a brown-haired, all too familiar young woman smiling from ear to ear.

"Hello, boys," she almost shouts with a sinister tone. She's not alone; behind her a crowd of black-eyed people have already started gathering.

"Meg!" Dean fakes a grin too, "We didn't expect to see you this soon."

"Oh, you can always count on me visiting my old friends," she laughs. Beside her, a threatening growling is heard from seemingly empty air.

"We're not your friends." Hellhounds or not, Dean feels anger and hate slowly build up in him. "I owe you one for Jo and Ellen, you know that, right?"

Meg laughs again, but her voice is threatening when she speaks. "Oh no no no. In fact, I owe _him_for what _he_ did to me." With that, she points at Castiel.

"What?" The brothers look at each other, confused.

"Never mind, it's none of your business," the demon shrugs, then addresses her words to the angel, "But you… you certainly know what I'm talking about, don't you? And I see you haven't told the boys here how good a so-called celestial can be at humiliating a woman."

"You're not a woman," Castiel tells her firmly and takes a subtle step towards the Winchesters, barely avoiding collapsing as his injured leg buckles. "You're a creature of Hell, child of the devil possessing the body of a woman."

The limp has caught Meg's attention though. "What do I have to see? You hurt?" When she gets no answer, she giggles and goes on. "Oh, I remember now, I heard rumors about some naughty dog biting your wings off," she teases in a faked anxious voice. "What a naughty, naughty dog. My poor Castiel. Looks like someone already made justice for me, don't you think?"

"Enough, bitch," Dean interrupts suddenly, growing tired of the demon's taunting. "I'll tell you what. You get out of here now while we're in a good mood."

"Whoo, bad boy Dean, I'm scared!" Meg laughs. "Okay, you know how I like chatting, but I'm starting to get bored too. I promise we'll be quick."

She nods with her head and the crowd behind her moves in, filling the small room immediately and closing in on the trio in no time. Dean lifts his fists, preparing to fight but just as the first demon could reach him, Castiel suddenly appears in front of him and the last thing the hunter sees is the outstretched index and middle finger of the angel touching his forehead.

It lasts even less than usually. A quarter of a second maybe, and Dean is thrown roughly down against concrete. _Last time it was definitely smoother,_he thinks as he lands on his hands and knees. Beside him, Sam moans from falling to the ground as well.

"What the hell?" Dean growls as he stands up, "Cas?"

Looking around, he spots the angel a couple of feet behind them, lying on the ground with closed eyes and face contorted in agony. They're still at the motel, having only managed to get out to the parking lot. Castiel has apparently lasted only for this long.

"Cas!"

The angel doesn't look like he has heard him; he's writhing in pain, breathing through clenched teeth, fighting to remain conscious while his back is arched rigidly.

"You son of a bitch," Dean tells him angrily as realization dawns on him. "What the _hell_were you thinking?"

Sam is arriving hurryingly to his side. "Dean… what was that?"

Dean keeps shaking the angel's shoulder but he remains unresponsive apart from a few cries of pain. "Wake up, dammit!" Then he turns to his brother. "Don't you see? He has brought us out. You wonder how it is possible with out-of-order wings?" He just nods towards Castiel with his head.

"Dean, we have to get out of here, now," Sam tells him. "We're only ahead of the demons with a couple sets of stairs. I don't think it will cost them much time to catch up on us."

The older Winchester looks up at the motel and nods, postponing the arguing to later. They lift the oblivious angel up and half drag, half carry him towards the Impala with Dean swearing continuously. Sam can hear the word 'idiot' multiple times.

With Castiel tucked in the backseat again, the car shoots out of the parking lot and back onto the highway. The speeding causes the angel to cry out again as his back gets pressed against the seat; he is jerked into a more alerted state. Sam comfortingly pats his shoulder as he keeps looking behind them to see if they were followed.

"You okay, Cas?"

They have to wait a couple of seconds for the answer.

"No," Castiel says hoarsely and softly, "but I'm improving."

He sounds so tired and his voice is so full of pain it almost breaks Dean's heart. "Why did you do that?" He asks, still a bit angrily but there is rather worry in his voice.

"We had to get out," Castiel explains as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"We could have fought them."

"No Dean," if possible, Castiel sounds even more tired. "I'm sorry. You and Sam are very good hunters indeed, but you can't fight thirty demons plus six hellhounds at once. Not talking about me, being only a burden to you right now…"

"Shut up Cas," Dean interrupts him. "Don't say that. You're not a burden. You saved our asses countless times, you even saved us now, but you're still an idiot because as I see it, injured wings don't fit with flying very much."

"We had no other choice." The angel argues. "It's just my wings, they will heal with time, but those demons would have killed you. I wasn't going to watch you take another ride in Hell. By the way, you'll need to drop me out somewhere."

"What?" The brothers ask at once.

Castiel sighs. "Cerberus' saliva is still circling in my system. It has… marked my blood with a scent hellhounds can smell from thousands of miles." He stops for a little then continues. "They will find us again. And again. The best thing we can do is to split up, so that the hellhounds won't go after you."

"Oh, so they could track you down and chew the living shit out of you, that's really a great idea, Cas," Dean teases.

"But…"

"Okay, everyone, listen," Sam cuts in, "here's the plan. We're going straight to Bobby's, it's about 36 hours from there, but we don't stop anywhere for more than ten minutes. We'll take turns at driving. Bobby's a safe place, it's full of devil's traps and everything, no demon can even step over the threshold, so we can stay there until Cas' mojo comes back."

"Yeah, that sounds like a plan," Dean nods.

"I doubt," Castiel tells them, "that we could safely drive that much. Demons can move quite fast when not possessing a vessel. It's not safe for you. I still suggest that you drop me out at some point, and don't worry, I'll get by somehow."

Dean looks over at his brother. "Hey, you know, I think he's starting to sound delirious; must be caused by the blood loss. What do you think?"

Sam's getting it right away. "Yeah, he seems to be pretty out of it. We should hurry."

"I don't… I don't understand, I'm not delirious," Castiel protests faintly, but to tell the truth, he really feels like he's about to drift away. It's quite strange; an odd buzzing in his ear slowly stifles every other sound including the voices of the Winchesters, dark spots dance in his vision and the pain in his back is slowly turning numb. But he's still at himself; he's not drifting away completely, only falls into a trance-like daze. The being in his vessel is still angelic and therefore he doesn't properly know how to fall unconscious or even asleep.

He doesn't know how much time passes when the Impala stops next and the door on his side opens. He glances up only to find Dean staring down on him with a questioning gaze.

"Man, you never sleep, do you?" He sighs rather disappointedly.

"That state of the human brain is quite unfamiliar to me," Castiel admits. "By the way I doubt it could do so much good to lose track of time and everything that happens around you."

"Yeah, whatever," Dean is looking too tired to argue this time. "I just hoped you could get some real rest."

"I'm resting," Castiel assures him.

"Here, I brought you some water. Thought you might be thirsty."

"Thank you," the angel struggles to get up, and hell it doesn't go easily with all those stiff and sore limbs. When he's finally up, he takes the glass gracefully and downs it in a second, just like back in the motel room.

"Wow. You want another?"

"No." Castiel replies simply then looks at the front seats of the car and notices the emptiness. "Where's Sam?"

The older Winchester nods with his head towards a building behind them. "Gone to make himself lighter." At the angel's confused look, he adds. "In the toilet. How are your wings?"

"Better."

"You know, you angels are not really good at lying."

"I'm not lying," Castiel protests. "They feel like crap right now, but it's better than how it was like when I flew."

Dean looks completely dumbfounded. "Did I just hear you saying 'crap'?"

Now Castiel is the one who suddenly appears unsure. "Isn't it how you usually describe unpleasant things?" He asks.

"Yeah, it's just strange to hear it from a… you know, an angel of the Lord."

Castiel doesn't really understand why it is so strange to hear a word you use a lot from another person, but doesn't bother to argue further. Sam is back anyways; and according to the plan, they get back to riding, having spent no more than seven minutes on the side of the road.

* * *

It's getting dark and the thick grey clouds that have been covering the sky the whole day are still around all the way to the horizon. They give no rain, they don't even seem to move even the slightest, just hang above them like some kind of sinister omen.

There's still a good twenty hours' drive to Bobby's. Dean is driving, Sam is sleeping on the passenger seat and he would look so amusing with his open mouth and the odd facial expression he wears if only anyone watched him, but no one does so. Dean has his attention on the road ahead of them and Castiel is busy trying to deal with the growing lack of comfortableness as he's still lying on one side and his left shoulder and arm has started to become numb. So he tries to sit up, even if it awakens the pain in his wrist and wings that has been blissfully absent for a while now.

His groaning draws the attention of Dean who slows down and carefully looks at him in the rearview window.

"Cas, you okay? 'Cause you don't have to get up yet, we're still far away."

"I'm sore," the angel answers. "Dean, do you have a devil's trap on your car?"

The question is so sudden it takes time for Dean to comprehend. "You mean, if a demon wanted to get inside for a drive? No, I don't have. I don't even know where to paint it so that it won't be too… conspicuous. Why are you asking it anyways?"

"I think we're being followed," Castiel answers in a low voice.

"Shit," the hunter swears and looks in the rearview window again, this time scanning the road, but there's no one behind them. They're all alone on the road, but he knows it doesn't mean anything. "How bad is it?"

"I don't know yet," the angel replies, and suddenly his voice turns almost pleading. "Dean, you have to leave me."

Dean frowns. "Cas, we've been already over this. No one leaves anyone anywhere."

"It's for your own good."

"Shut up."

"Dean-"

"I said shut up! I don't want to hear about it anymore."

Castiel falls silent obediently, but the arguing has awakened Sam who blinks questioningly at his brother.

"What was that?"

There's a long pause and Sam starts thinking he won't get any answers at all, but then Dean speaks.

"Cas thinks we may be followed."

Just like the older Winchester, Sam also turns around and peeks behind them, but there's still no sign of anyone on the road apart from them.

"You sure Cas? Wasn't it just a dream?"

"I've never had a chance to experience dreaming in my life," comes the dry reply, "but I'm fairly sure I can tell the difference."

"Okay, okay. How can you tell, by the way?"

Castiel looks down at his hand and he sounds oddly ashamed. "Cerberus' saliva is burning my veins. It means they've set the hellhounds on the smell."

"Yeah, but as I said even a thousand hellhounds and a million demons couldn't make me put you out in the middle of nowhere and let you face the horde alone." Dean's voice is firm, and Sam knows he thinks it most seriously and no one could ever talk him into doing so. Not like Sam himself would want to; leaving someone who's injured, angel or not, to be sacrificed for them to gain a couple hours of advantage was never an option.

"I have a bad feeling," Castiel mutters suddenly in a low voice and looks around. He sounds anxious and it's so different from the tone he used a couple of seconds ago when they were arguing that it even occurs to Dean.

"What's it?"

"They're gaining speed."

"So are we," the older Winchester replies and steps harder on the gas.

Castiel leans forward. "Dean, I don't think it's a good idea. You should slow down." His voice is strangely agitated by now.

"What? But you said-"

_"Dean!"_

A moment later he can see it too. Sam also calls his name as the headlights of a van rapidly approach them and Dean tries to hitch the steering wheel sideways in an attempt to avoid the crash but it's too late. He can feel Castiel's hand on his shoulder as if the angel was trying to fly them away again, but he has probably failed as the last thing Dean can hear is the sound of metal crashing against metal, and then he's enfolded by darkness.

* * *

**Ouch! Sorry about the cliffhanger, I didn't want the story to become too boring... hehe:D**

**Now about Meg. I've written this before I saw s06e10 Caged Heat, so I pictured her as a vengeful enemy... which is who she should be like, I think, especially after Abandon All Hope, remember? She should be looking to take revenge on Cas, so that hot moment they shared was totally uncool in my opinion. But tell me what you think, either about this or about the chaoter!:)**

**FFV**


	5. Chapter 5: Trapped

**A/N: Anyone remember me? Sorry for having kept you waiting again. I hope you haven't forget where we've left off. Anyways, last chapter has got so few reviews, I started thinking no one's interested! Tell me I'm wrong please! Thanks for those who did have reviewed, and thanks to InsideYourDreams24 for beta-reading.**

* * *

Chapter 5: Trapped

* * *

The first thing Castiel becomes aware of is the fire. Something is burning; he can hear the cracking sounds, see the yellow flames in the corner of his slowly opening eyes, feel the smell that finally jerks him fully awake because it unmistakably smells like holy oil burning.

The angel sits up quickly, regretting the move right away as pain erupts in almost every part of his body. He stays still, absorbing it in silence and is only able to look around after it has decreased to a more bearable level. He can see Sam and Dean a couple feet away, cuffed to some kind of pipe; they both seem to be unconscious. They're in a big, empty room with wet, grey walls and cold stone floor; it looks like as if they're in a huge, abandoned mansion. Castiel wonders for a moment who could have owned it and what had happened to them.

At first he thought he has lost track of happenings since that van has crashed into the Impala but now he starts remembering vague pieces, sounds, pains that occurred while he was in that strange, half-drifted-away state.

A split second before the crash he tried to yank the brothers away, he remembers now, but the awakening pain in his wings startled him and that moment was enough for the van to crash into them. He was thrown sideways then, hitting his head on the door and that was when the familiar feeling Dean called dizziness had started. Then… then the door opened and he fell… no, he was dragged out by people, on whom he immediately felt the contamination caused by the presence of demons. Castiel tried to resist, to break out of their grip, even to exorcise, but he was too weak; both his human body and his angelic powers were incredibly hard to control. He couldn't do anything to stop them from dragging him along with the unconscious and bloody Winchesters and throwing him roughly down on a hard stone floor, and a moment later the ring of fire lighted up around him.

An image of Lucifer springs into his mind, looking at him from the other side of the barrier made of flames. No... it's not Carthage. It's not Lucifer who has trapped him this time; this time it's only middle-class demons taking advantage of his weakened condition. However, they could be obeying orders... does Lucifer have a plan B to make Sam say yes and convince him to turn his back to Heaven? Castiel doesn't think so. If the devil wanted to kill him, he would have done it in Carthage as soon as he found out Castiel won't come over to his side. And since he seemed so sure Sam will say yes to him at free will, he's probably patient enough to sit back and not bother to try and speed things up.

At this point, Castiel puts his thoughts about Lucifer aside and turns his attention to the Winchesters.

"Dean," he calls out softly, but loud enough for the hunter to hear it if he was awake. He gets no answer. "Sam?"

Dean's face is bloody and his clothes are extremely torn on his left side, where the van has crashed into the Impala on the driver's side. Castiel only hopes the injuries are not as severe as they seem; any other time he would just touch them with a single finger and they would heal at an instant, but now he can't even stop the bleeding of his own vessel.

He tries the last thing he can think of: to reach the brothers' minds. He doesn't know if his telepathic abilities were also knocked out by the hellhound saliva, in fact he hardly ever tried it since he was in a vessel. Last time, as he recalls, was when he failed to talk to Jimmy Novak in his real voice; he had to talk him with his mind into putting his hand in a bowl full of boiling water. Castiel has to suppress a chuckle at the thought how that would have worked on Dean. He didn't even try to call him telepathically as Dean didn't believe in angels. Not then.

The older Winchester starts getting back to himself the second the angel calls on him mentally; Castiel wonders if it is pure coincidence or he really has something of his celestial powers left in him.

"Dean," he doesn't even notices he has said the hunter's name aloud as well.

"What… Cas? Where the hell are we?"

He grimaces and touches his forehead with his free hand and as he sits upright, noticing his brother lying beside him.

"Sam? Sammy, wake up!"

The younger Winchester opens his eyes with a moan. "What happened?"

Dean's eyes meet Castiel's, a firm line of holy fire flaming between the two of them. They're all unable to move. "We're screwed, Sammy. That happened."

* * *

"Okay Cas, _anything_? Can't you think of _anything_ we could do about the fire?" Dean demands nervously. "Don't worry about the cuffs; Sam's already working on it, aren't you Sam?"

"Sure Dean," he answers with a tone that bodes an obvious bitch-face, but his brother is too busy to care.

"Come on, isn't there some spell, a sigil, something involving human blood?" At Castiel's frown Dean explains, "I mean, as you see we could give loads of that right now without having to cut ourselves, so…"

"No."

"Don't have to be protective, a couple drops of blood is the least we can give to buy us the ticket out of here…"

"It's not that," Castiel interrupts him. "There's no spell like that. As far as I know, holy fires can only be put out two ways. They can be eliminated by an angel standing outside the circle-"

"And how else?" Dean demands impatiently.

Castiel looks at him and his gaze is unreadable. "The common way: by water."

_Dammit,_ Dean thinks. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. As if it wasn't me who sent off that fire alarm at Gabriel…"

Castiel doesn't answer to that, just cocks his head sideways and looks curiously at Dean, trying to figure out what he meant, as usual.

"Oh no, don't throw that look at me again," the hunter rolls his eyes. "Say something useful instead."

"I think we can't do anything besides waiting for our chance," the angel declares.

"I said _useful,_ genius."

"Dean, calm down," Sam tells him almost bored. "He's right, there's nothing we can…"

"Why don't you working on your bonds, Sam?"

Sam has the instant retort. "Do you have a hairgrip? Because then I would know at least where to start."

"I've been telling you for years now that you should buy yourself some. And not just in case; you actually need them."

"Dean, I'm so glad you don't lose your sense of humor even in dire situations like this-"

Heavy footsteps cut him off as the familiar demon girl enters the room.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" She asks teasingly.

Dean opens his mouth to reply with one of his typical retorts, but Meg foregoes him. "Save it Dean, I don't really care about you right now." With that, she walks slowly to Castiel who has managed to get up and stand unsteadily on his feet to stare the demon in the eye.

Meg stops a couple of feet away from the fire and looks down into the flames, then back at the angel. "Familiar situation, huh?"

Castiel doesn't answer, only carries on with his killer glare.

"This time, however, there are no pipes. Except for that one," she nods with her head towards the pipe the Winchesters are cuffed to. "But as I see, throwing that one around would mean throwing the boys around as well, and that's something we should avoid shouldn't we? That little crash didn't do any good to their fragile human bodies…"

Still no answer from the angel.

"It's not like I'm afraid you could do anything anyways," she goes on, starting to walk around the ring of fire. Castiel's gaze follows her but he doesn't make a single move.

"I can feel you're still… tainted. And you know what? You actually smell delicious."

"Cut the dramatics Meg, what do you want?" Dean's irritated voice spoils her moment.

The demon is right between the brothers and the fire; she kicks Dean in the side almost elegantly and keeps walking on her tracks as if nothing happened. The older Winchester cries out, clutching his already injured ribs. Sam struggles against his bonds.

"Okay, I see you boys are getting impatient," Meg speaks up, "so I get to the point. I was _burnt._ You made me burn the last time there was holy fire between us," she points accusingly at Castiel. "And what's worse, I assume you have no idea what it feels like. You know what holy water does to us, but the fire… it's a hundred times worse. I've been looking for a way to make you feel it too, and finally I've found it."

Dean's eyes grow wide with horror and he can see the same horror in Sam's eyes as well as they exchange glances. They both remember exactly what Castiel himself has said about angels and holy fires.

"No angel can touch or pass through the flames or he dies," just as if reading their minds, Castiel quotes himself word for word. "Or do you wish to take your revenge by killing me?"

Meg chuckles, "That would be an easy run, but then how would you feel what I want you to feel? As far as I know, not even angels can feel if they're dead."

There is a thrilled silence in the room as she lets her words take effect, "As I said, I've done some research. Turns out… holy fire is lethal to angels only if it's made by an angel or human. But what about demons?"

Castiel remains silent.

"You don't know? No offense, it's only God who knows everything, right? I mean, if he really exist…"

"He does." The angel finally speaks.

Meg giggles. "How sweet it is to see such faith! But calm down, I'm not in the mood to open a theological debate. Not right now. My point is, holy oil spilled by the hands of a demon loses part of its power. It gets somehow tainted, just like you, Castiel. It won't be deadly to you. I even wonder if 'normal' holy oil would be deadly to you now, considering what's left of you, but…"

"Enough," Dean snaps at her. Meg looks at him, annoyed.

"Dean, in case you haven't noticed, it's just between the two of us. Who said you could interfere?"

"Who didn't?"

Meg is in front of him in two seconds and aims another kick at his face. He lifts his unbound arm to protect himself just in time; her boot collides with his ulna with a painful thud. The demon doesn't bother to try again; she walks back to her primary victim.

"All right, thanks to your friend, we can start right away. Davis!"

At first the brothers don't know what she has waited for to happen. Then another demon steps in, a male, tall and bald, not even bothering to make his eyes look human. He doesn't say a thing, just walks firmly to Dean, leans down and grabs his arm.

"Whoa whoa whoa hey! Back off, douchebag!"

The demon ignores his cursing as he pulls out a knife and before Dean could wrench his hand free, cuts him deep in the forearm. Dean grunts; Sam tries to reach for him but he's too far away. The male demon pushes his hand to the wound, letting the human's blood flow onto his fingers, then stands up and walks towards the far end wall of the room. Meg looks on contentedly. "Just remember how I showed it," she tells him.

The male demon lifts his bloodied hand and starts drawing a circle on the wall. Dean feels another wave of horror rush through him as it becomes clear what is about to happen.

"No!"

When the demon runs out of blood on his hand, he goes back to the brothers again.

"Take some from Sammy too," Meg warns. "Can't have it all pure human blooded, remember?"

The male demon obeys silently, cutting the vainly fighting Sam's arm this time.

"Leave him alone, asshole!" Dean yells and struggles against his handcuff with no effect.

"Stop using coarse language Dean," Meg sighs bored, "it won't make anything better."

When the sigil is finished, Castiel, who has been watching the whole procedure silently, speaks again. "How do you know all of these?"

Meg laughs. "You'd like to know, huh? Well I'm sorry, but even magicians don't tell their secrets."

"Lucifer," Castiel says in a low voice. "He told you. Only he could possess this knowledge…"

"And if yes, then what? He loves me enough to help me with my little business… even if it means losing a potential ally…"

"I will never be his ally," the angel establishes.

"Good then, he won't lose anything!" Meg claps her hands excitedly. "Let's get started!"

Castiel looks at the sigil. "I'm trapped in a ring of holy fire. Using the sigil will kill me."

"Stupid angel!" She taunts him, grinning. "There's _so_much I know and you don't… Of course I've looked up what happens if you use both of them. The sigil makes angels go away, the holy fire keeps them in place – quite paradox isn't it? So I figured out the one made by the stronger being will work."

She takes another walk around the trapped angel, enjoying the shock her words have caused both in Castiel and the Winchesters. She only continues when she arrives back to her original place.

"Davis here," she motions towards the male demon with her hand, "is a lower class demon than me. Therefore, my deed will be stronger than his, which in our case is the fire, so technically…" with that, she looks Castiel straight in the eye, smiling. "You're grounded, honey."

* * *

**I think I like female badguys more than male ones... maybe because they're easier to picture... just make them cheeky and it's done:D**

**Please review if you liked the chapter! Feedbacks keep me motivated so maybe I'll be able to post the next one sooner!:)**


	6. Chapter 6: Tormented

**A/N: Hi again, hope you still remember where we left off! And yay! Supernatural continues tonight with the new episode! I can't wait!**

**Beta-read by InsideYourDreams24. And now that everyone wants to know what exactly happens when you use both holy fire and angel-banishing sigil... **

* * *

Chapter 6: Tormented

* * *

"You're grounded, honey," Meg licks her lips and looks the angel up and down like he was everything she had been longing for. Castiel returns her glare.

"You're making a mistake," he finally says in a low, raspy voice.

The demon lifts her chin, the greed in her eyes changing to disdain in less than a moment. "No, _you_made a mistake back then. I'm just delivering justice."

"You don't understand," Castiel tries to explain. "Doing such a thing will cause my grace to flare up like a beacon in the dark. This place will be swarming with angels in a blink."

Meg smiles coldly at this. "What a pity you're not on the best terms with your bros right now, isn't it?"

"I believe they still like demons less, if you get my point."

"It's nice you're worrying about me," she shrugs, "but there's no need to. No need to fear angels turning up either. My lord has taken care of this too. The house is a hundred percent angel-proof."

This leaves Castiel without words. In the silence, nothing can be heard apart from the cracking sounds of the fire and the Winchesters still struggling to break free.

"Okay," Meg speaks up, "if nobody has further objections, we can start the fun. Davis!"

The male demon lifts his bloodied hand, and Dean wants to yell something so desperately to stop him, but no sound can come out of his throat as the palm touches the middle of the sigil.

It all happens in a split second, but to Dean it's like everything is played in slow motion. Castiel flinches first, then the all-too-well-known white light appears, seemingly coming out of the angel himself, engulfing him and lighting up the whole room in a blinding whiteness. Castiel screams out and makes a strange move as if he was trying to step back, but his legs give in and he collapses on the floor. Dean can hear the angel's screaming even through the ear-splitting buzz as the power of the fire and the sigil meet. Normally, the banishing ritual is finished in about three seconds at tops, but now as the fire is not letting Castiel go, and the demon's still pressing his hand on the wall, it goes on and on and doesn't stop. Dean also hears Sam cry out something beside him, and he finds himself yelling at the top of his lungs too, without the slightest effect.

After what it seems like agonizingly forever, the light suddenly vanishes and so does the screaming. As Dean takes his arm from his face which he hasn't even noticed he put there to protect himself from going blind, he doesn't see anything but the fire. In a couple of seconds, his eyes adjust to the darkness, and he can see Castiel lie on his side in the middle of the ring of flames. At first he thinks he's passed out, but the angel is moving, if only barely, with eyes closed, obviously recovering from great agony.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" The hunter can't control himself. If he wasn't immobilized, he would run to the demon right now and strangle her with his bare hands.

There's something revolting in how Meg ignores him. She just stands above the tortured angel, now even closer to the fire to see her work properly. A small, contented smile plays at her lips; she looks at Dean for a moment the turns her head away without a word.

"Don't you dare to touch him again!"

Meg doesn't even look at him this time. She lazily walks around the fire; this time the silence is expanded with the knocking of the demon's boots and Castiel's heavy panting.

"So," she begins as she finishes her circle. "Tell me… what did it feel like?"

The angel looks up at her. His face is still contorted in pain, but beyond that Dean can see the typical Castiel look. He doesn't answer though but struggles to get up instead, as being down on the ground with a demon above him is clearly hurting his dignity. He's shaking horribly, especially his injured leg and hand, but Meg is pretty patient and waits without further questions until the angel's face is on the same level as hers.

Castiel just looks at her for a couple of seconds, then speaks with an extremely gruff voice. "You're still making a mistake."

The female demon's eyes narrow, "That's all you've got to say?"

"You still think you will be victorious."

"Do I have a reason not to?" Meg takes a step closer, "As far as I see, we're the ones that are making progress while you're doing nothing. I mean, besides some pathetic trying." With that, she motions with her hand towards the Winchesters.

"We have someone on our side that is far more powerful than Lucifer could imagine." Castiel says.

Meg merely laughs out at this, "Oh yeah, I've heard about your unbreakable faith, Castiel. I've heard about your little mission too. But tell me something. If there is God, if he really cares about you… where is he now?"

The angel doesn't answer.

"I could do anything to you right now, and nothing would happen! _Nothing!_ My father was there when you humiliated me; he was there to help me heal. So I'm asking you, where is _your_father?"

Castiel only looks at her, and strangely enough, there's already something else in his gaze: pity.

"You're going to regret this," He says finally, sounding oddly sad.

The pitiful tone only makes Meg angrier, "Am I?" She turns her head fiercely towards her male company and nods. The demon brings his hand to the symbol on the wall again.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Castiel can hear Dean's desperate yell this time before the force of the sigil hits him. It brings him down easier this time, almost immediately. Whiteness enfolds him again and Castiel feels like he's burning alive; as if his grace wanted to rip to a hundred pieces and burst out of his chest. He can't even watch out not to roll on his back, but the injured wings are simply nothing compared to this agony. He barely feels that besides screaming with the throat of the vessel, his true voice is also escaping, and he can't control it, he doesn't even want to.

The angelic voice stifles out the brother's screaming too. Sam feels like his eardrums are about to split as he tries to shield them with his hands but it proves to be quite difficult with one of them still cuffed to that damn pipe. To Dean, the shrill noise is already familiar. Though Cas was only 'talking' then, the hunter can't exactly tell talking from screaming in angel voice. But now, as he sees (or rather imagines, since the white light is almost blinding him) Castiel writhing and squirming on the floor, he can only consider the earsplitting noise as cry of pain, a cry for help.

_God, where the hell are you now?_

For a brief moment he thinks the question has been heard, because the light and the screaming stop again, but his hopes are in vain. The male demon must have taken his palm away only temporarily; the next moment it starts all over again.

"STOP!" He yells with his remaining strength, but he can do nothing more, and the feeling of incapability is nearly killing him. It just goes on and on, like forever, as if not seconds but hours, days had passed since…

Suddenly he feels two things at once. Something hard but light hits his leg and there's someone nudging at his arm. Turning around, he's faced with Sam's anxious expression.

Just anxious, not desperate.

At his brother's confused expression, Sam lifts his hands. Both of them.

They are no longer cuffed to the pipe.

Quickly checking after the first wave of shock settles, Dean finds he's free too.

Sam's mouth moves, but his brother can't hear a thing due to the buzzing and the screams; though it's only a man screaming by now as Castiel seems to have somehow managed to suppress the angel voice. A moment later Dean also sees what Sam wants to say as his brother reaches for something on the floor next to their legs; something long and silvery.

It's Castiel's blade.

When and how it has gotten there, there's no time to find out. The brothers merely nod at each other before jumping to their feet, each of them lunging for a demon.

Sam hurries to the male demon still pressing his hand on the symbol. Meg can wait; the most important thing is right now to end the angel's suffering.

Unfortunately the demon notices him and although he takes his hand away, making the light go out and the screams stop, Sam's plan to kill him instantly is ruined. The demon grabs his blade-holding hand and yanks it away, but Sam punches him immediately with his left fist; once, twice, three times until the grip on his wrist loosens and he can drive the sword through the man's chest. As the demon dies with the flickering red lights throughout his body, Sam looks around to find Dean. His brother has managed to knock Meg to the ground, but she has apparently sent him flying to the wall, and now both of them are recovering.

"Dean!" Sam yells as he throws the knife.

Dean catches it gracefully and rushes towards Meg without hesitation, but before he could reach her, she opens her mouth and the Winchesters can do nothing but watch the black smoke leave the host girl's body.

"Cowardly bitch!" Dean curses, clutching his side that still aches from the crash, the kicks and from being thrown through the room.

Sam, who has quickly collected Ruby's knife from the body, is already working on putting out the holy fire or at least a part of it. Dean hurries to Castiel in utter worry.

The angel is lying on his back, arms next to his body; his suit and tie are disheveled in a strangely rankling way. His eyes are closed and he appears to be unconscious. Dean kneels down to him, not sure where to touch, where to touch without causing pain.

"Cas…" His voice is so full of anxiety, it almost breaks. "Can you hear me?"

Castiel's breathing seems extremely slow; his chest is barely moving. But what scares the hunter the most is the thought that this might not even be Cas; this might be just the vessel.

"Cas?" Dean looks up helplessly at Sam, "What should we do?"

"I say we get the hell out of here first," the always-more-rational younger Winchester points out, "I don't think they were alone in the house," he nods with his head towards the body of the male demon.

"Sure," Dean nods, and makes another attempt. "Cas…?"

"Come on Dean, let's lift him up."

The brothers reach cautiously under each of the angel's arms and haul him up into a standing position. Castiel's head is lulling down and his legs buckle even at the smallest weight placed on them, showing undoubtedly that he's out cold, but just as they start moving towards the door, he suddenly jerks awake, startling both Winchesters.

"What the… hey Cas, easy, it's us!"

It looks as if the angel was trying to wrench himself free; he's clearly not fully aware of his surroundings.

"Cas, calm down dammit, it's us!"

Finally at his voice Castiel stops and goes limp again. "Dean?" He asks; his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah buddy, it's me. Don't worry, it's over and we're getting out."

Castiel lifts his head and looks at the brothers, one after the other, with slightly unfocused eyes. "Do you need a teleport?"

"NO." Sam and Dean almost shout at once, "Don't even think about it, will you?"

"Fine," the angel says, raspier than ever. He lets his chin fall down again, but at he's standing now and his legs are trying to hold at least a part of his weight, indicating that he's not passed out completely.

"Come on," Sam says softly and urgently and they lift the angel's arms around their shoulders before setting off again.

Strangely enough, they don't meet any more demons as they limp out of the mansion. Even Sam's worries about how they are going to get away vanish as the first thing appearing in front of them outside the gate is the Impala. She's quite battered though, with her left side totally bashed in and her windshield cracked, but it's still a lot better than expected.

"Well, looks like our ride is here," Sam establishes, somewhat relieved but still keeping looking behind their shoulders for attackers.

"Someone will pay for doing this to my baby," Dean grunts as they lower Castiel onto the backseat. The angel looks unable to stay sitting upright; he just let himself sink sideways semi-consciously.

They're already long on the road when Dean finally breaks the silence.

"Cas, how're you holdin' up?"

He gets no answer.

"Cas?" Sam turns back to check on the angel. He appears to be resting, but at the brothers' repeated calling he opens his eyes, startling, "Sam."

"How are you doing?"

"'Fine' doesn't cut it," Dean interjects, "I want to know what… effect this bitch's doing had on you."

"I will be fine," Cas rasps out, but the silence following his words indicates that Dean isn't real content with that answer. "Well, it hurt. But I assume you knew that. My true form was the one tortured, and now my grace is weakened. I'll have to rest a lot, that's all."

"That's all?"

"Dean, leave him," Sam interrupts. "Can't you see he can barely stay conscious?"

The older hunter looks in the rearview window and his eyes meet the angel's tired ones. "Fine. Just rest, Cas. We'll talk later."

They drive in silence for a couple of minutes before he speaks again. "Just one thing, Sammy. How did you manage to break free? I mean, I've been messing with you about the hairgrip but I didn't think you actually…"

"I don't know," Sam replies and looks behind at the angel in a strangely cautious way. "I just… suddenly felt the cuffs click open. I don't know what could have caused it… or who."

"I know," Castiel suddenly says, his voice so soft it's almost a whisper. "It was God. It must have been him. Angels couldn't hear me but He… He did."

The brothers exchange glances. Castiel's eyes are still closed, and Dean can't determine if he's alert or delirious.

There's another thing, however, that bothers the older Winchester. He'll have to wait for the angel to be completely out, or for an other occasion to come when he can be private with Sammy; because all those years of going through shit together made him know his brother better than anyone in the world, and he can clearly feel that Sam hasn't been fully honest with him in their previous conversation.

* * *

**Any ideas how Sam got free?:)**


	7. Chapter 7: Accompanied

**A/N: Welcome back everyone! I know I broke my time record of not updating, but honestly I was more busy this month than the whole last year! Still, I hope some of you remember where we left off the previous chapter, and will enjoy this one too! Happy reading! Thanks to InsideYourDreams24 for beta-reading.**

* * *

Chapter 7: Accompanied

* * *

They drive for another three hours in silence before stopping at a gas station. Dean's side is throbbing and he looks so exhausted that Sam thoughtfully offers to change places. The older Winchester agrees deliberately as he gets out to grab some food and drinks for the three of them.

Despite his tiredness, Dean keeps an eye out for anyone acting suspicious; he's still not completely sure that Meg's demons have lost their track. But it seems the precaution is unnecessary this time; there are no sign of demons anywhere in the small shop. Even the sleepy face of the cashier girl couldn't be more average. Her body is another thing though, Dean thinks as he looks her up and down but somehow he's not in the mood of flirting with an unconscious angel and a secretive brother on his hands at the moment.

He pays for the chicken sandwiches and bottles of water and walks back to the car. Sam's disappeared somewhere; probably to the men's room. Dean makes himself comfortable in the passenger seat, starting to unwrap one of the sandwiches and turning back towards Castiel.

"Cas? Hey buddy, you in there?"

The angel has been passed out since he mentioned that it has been God who helped them, but the brothers had no idea what to do with him besides keeping on calling his name to see if he had come to.

"Cas, you gotta wake up and drink something," Dean insists, nudging the angel's shoulder gently but still getting no answer.

"What a sleeping beauty you are," Dean mutters under his breath and takes another bite of the sandwich.

Suddenly the angel stirs and groans softly, as if he was trying to speak.

"Cas?"

"Please," Castiel croaks out, "Please…"

"Hey, I'm here, what's wrong?"

The angel's face is grimaced in pain and something else but the hunter can't really define what it is.

"Please… forgive me…"

"For what, Cas?" Dean asks with a bad feeling.

"Anna…"

It is bad. The angel not only seems to be unaware of his surroundings, he also appears to be delusional. "No, Cas, she's not here. I'm Dean. Can you hear me?" As soon as Dean says it, he realizes it's actually possible that he's speaking to Anna; after all, who knows how angels can communicate throughout time and space.

"I'm sorry… I shouldn't have done this to you… Anna!"

Dean knits his brows. What on earth could Cas possibly be sorry for?

"Please… don't leave…"

Castiel's pleas weaken and soften until he's sunken into unconsciousness again. Dean puts the sandwich aside, appetite suddenly gone, and looks at his angel, sad and unsure of what to do.

Sam appears in the toilet door and with a sudden idea Dean gets out of the car, closing the door behind him.

"What's wrong?" The younger Winchester asks as he arrives back to the Impala. "Is Cas okay?"

"He just had the impression I was Anna," Dean answers darkly and folds his arms together. "He… said he was sorry for something; seems to be out of it."

"That's not good," Sam admits and leans against the Impala's door. "Can we go?"

Dean looks at his brother, "Just one more thing Sammy: you need to tell me what you saw back in Meg's mansion, how you broke free. And please tell the truth this time because believe me, I'm your brother and I know when you're hiding something."

Sam looks back at him and his gaze looks oddly hurt. He puts his hands in his pocket before answering. "Fine, Dean. I'm not… I'm not hiding anything. I just didn't want to say it in front of him," with that, he nods with his head towards Castiel in the car.

Dean's expression is confused enough so he goes on. "He thinks it was God. I just… didn't know what to say. I saw who it was, and I wasn't God."

"Then who? Spit it out, Sam, we don't have all day."

"It was Gabriel."

"Gab… what? You mean the trickster-archangel?"

"Exactly. I don't know, he just popped up beside me, put a finger in front of his mouth like," he indicates it, making a 'ssh' sound, "then snapped his fingers and my handcuffs opened."

"Gabriel was helping us? That's doesn't make any sense."

Sam agrees on this. "Absolutely not; but I assume he wasn't proud with his rescue action either."

"What do you mean?"

"He said don't tell Castiel. I know, I couldn't hear anything besides the… screaming and all but his voice was somehow… ringing inside my head."

It's obviously a lot for Dean to comprehend. "Gabriel… was helping us but he didn't want Castiel to know about it?"

"Apparently."

"Does it make any sense to you?"

Sam shrugs, "I don't know about angel hierarchy. Cas has rebelled, so… Gabriel probably doesn't want to risk his reputation with helping a disobedient angel…"

"He was being tortured, for God's sake! Cas didn't deserve it! Speaking about him…" Dean pulls out the long, silvery angel blade, "how the hell has this gotten to us?"

Sam looks back at him, a little confused, "He threw it here. Didn't you see?"

"Cas?" Dean points towards the car again.

"Yeah. He must have spotted that our bindings were gone."

"Wow. He just had the time to take a glance on us between two screams?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "Dean… I don't know okay? I mean, that's all I saw. Don't ask me to explain it."

The older Winchester sighs, "Fine, I'm sorry. I just… don't like when I don't see the reason; it's always suspicious. But Gabriel… I doubt it was some kind of trap. Let's get going."

Sam nods and the brothers get back in the car. Castiel still seems to be out and Dean is sure he didn't hear any of their conversation. Looking him up and down, the older hunter also notices the angel's quite in a need of a bandage change, especially regarding his leg, where the deepest hellhound claw marks are. His wrist probably needs to be examined too, Dean thinks, but he knows they won't have the opportunity to stop for a long procedure like that until they reached Bobby's place, which is still about fifteen hour's drive. Sam's at the wheel this time, giving his brother the precious opportunity to catch up on his sleep. Dean's really grateful for that.

He falls asleep and doesn't know how much time passes when he awakens next. First he doesn't even know what has disturbed him, but a moment later he notices the rapid decrease in the Impala's speed. Before he could go back to sleep with the thought of Sam probably wanting to take a leak, he hears his brother's nervous muttering.

"Oh no, no no no no."

It's enough to chase the last remains of sleepiness out of Dean who sits up quickly, nervousness spreading to him like a contagion.

"What?"

His eyes are already scanning the road and he immediately spots the uniform-wearing figure standing on the side of the road and waving directly at them.

"I can't believe it!" Sam shakes his head indignantly. "I didn't even cross the speed limit!"

"You didn't?"

"Well, maybe once or twice, but…"

"Dammit Sam, don't you realize that if we stop, he will see one bloody, passed-out angel on our backseat?" Dean swears.

Sam looks at him worriedly. "What should I do then? Step on the gas?"

"Oh no, you want my baby to be signed on the 'wanted cars' list?"

"It's Cas or the car, Dean. Decide."

"Okay, okay… stop then. Just let me handle it."

The police officer lifts his hand, ordering to stop, "Out of the car, please."

The brothers emerge from the car without a word. "As you wish, officer," Dean says loudly and far too warmly, "What's the problem?"

* * *

"Dean!"

The hunter snaps out of his dazed state. He has been listening to the music of the club and watching the almost naked girl dancing at the nearest table for a couple of minutes now. He must have lost his sense of time; there's a half-empty beer bottle in his hand and Sam sitting in front of him, and somehow he doesn't seem to have any recollection of the past hours.

"What?"

"That's what I'm asking. What happened?"

Dean looks back at his brother, confused. "What do you mean, what happened? We decided to visit a bar. A bar… with the nicest girls ever." His eyes wander to the dancing girl again.

Sam's angry voice snaps him out of the daze again. "No, I mean, we were driving, with Cas passed out on the backseat. When did we stop?"

Cas' name finally jolts Dean's brain back into working mode. "Yeah, you're right… we were stopped by some police officer. What happened then, really?"

"We got out of the car," Sam enlightens him.

"Yeah I remember that, genius. He came to us, and…"

"Bang," Sam says, "we were here."

Dean chuckles, "I haven't really noticed when we got here."

"Dean, I think something did this to us."

The older Winchester frowns. "Damn right. And who are the only creatures that are known of being able to transport people faster than you could say 'hell'?"

"Angels," Sam nods.

"Friggin' angels," Dean adds and takes another sip of his beer. "Bet my life it was one of those dicks."

"But why has he teleported us here? What's the big plan?"

"I don't know, but we have to find Cas," Dean starts to stand up, "because I don't think he's in any condition of being able to take care of himself."

Before Dean could fully stand, a hand lands on his shoulder, pushing him back in his seat.

"Not so fast, Dean."

"What…"

A waiter steps to their table, holding a piece of paper, probably the bill. "Leaving the bar without paying is against the law." He grins in a strange way; a strange but familiar way.

"Wait a minute…"

"Gabriel," Sam establishes.

The Trickster-Archangel winks at them as his face changes back, waiter costume vanishing in a blink. He lazily snaps his fingers and a chair appears out of nowhere.

"Hello again, boys," he greets them as he sits down, looking mischievously from one to the other.

* * *

**Ah, yes. Good old Gabriel. I know some of you are pleased to see him appear:) Actually I didn't like him until the very last episode he was in, where he confessed he was on the Winchesters' side. Unfortunately, this was also the episode he died... well, apparently. To be honest, I don't think he really died, as he's a trickster, remember? So his death with the wings and all could have been another trick, and because of this, he could be brought back at any time if the makers of the show decided to do so.**

**Anyway, I was hesitating before writing him in, because this story is about Cas and he and Gabriel didn't really have too much 'history' together in the show and I don't want them to be OOC. But a little helping hand from him won't be too bad:)**

**If you liked the chapter, please review! If you didn't like it, please review!:) Feedbacks make my day.  
**


	8. Chapter 8: Awakened

**A/N: Hello again, everyone. No comment on this one. Happy reading! Beta-read by InsideYourDreams24.**

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Chapter 8: Awakened

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"Gabriel," Dean states with face changing from surprised to serious in a split second. Sam knows this look well; it's the way Dean looks at creatures they will hunt down the moment they have the opportunity.

"Good you showed up, actually," the older Winchester starts, eyes narrowing, "we were just about to discuss the identity of some cop that stopped us a few minutes ago in, where, five states away?"

The archangel's smile never disappears. "Okay, I admit, it wasn't fair. Everyone would fall for the policeman trick. Quit whining! I really needed to talk to you, and since there was no room left in the car where I could jump in, so…"

"Where are we? Where's Cas?" Dean interrupts him impatiently.

"Oh don't panic, we're just half a mile away from where you've stopped. It was the nearest place with beer and babes. I thought you'll be enjoying yourselves and won't jump right at my throat before I could speak! Oh, and by the way, 'Cas' is safe, we're near enough for me to be able to keep a close eye on him, should anything happen."

"How very caring of you," Dean spits.

Sam lifts his hands, trying to get the situation under control before it gets worse, "Okay, just… what do you want, Gabriel?"

The archangel laughs out loud, "What do I want? Maybe a little 'thank you' would be nice. But I also accept chocolate, if you're not a man of words."

"Why did you help us?"

"Why? You seriously need to see a doctor with your paranoia, Dean. I helped, because I care. I care about my brother. What kind of an angel do you think I am?"

"Well, you haven't been too eager to show it so far," Sam notes.

"And besides, brotherly love wasn't among the top ten things we've learned from angels," Dean adds.

"What those demons were doing to him…" Gabriel ignores them. "It's excruciating. I wouldn't even want _you_to go through it. There are very few ways to torture an angel this much, and only a very few of us know about them."

"Meg said it was Lucifer who taught her," Sam informs him.

"I would have thought so," Gabriel sighs, his face suddenly strangely careworn.

Dean leans closer, "Why didn't you want us to tell Cas about you?"

Gabriel looks in their eyes, and when he speaks, his voice is a lot softer, "Look, I don't expect you to understand it. Things are a little complicated up there, especially now."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe you haven't heard, but little Cassie is kind of out of favor right now. For some reason, they don't seem to tolerate rebelling too much. Michael has ordered each and every angel to kill him and everyone who aids him on sight. Well, except for you," he points a finger at Dean, "but look at that, isn't it you who happens to be the one sticking with him recently? How ironic."

"If I get it right," Sam says, "you don't want him to know you were helping, because you're afraid your brothers will kill you."

"That doesn't sound too brave of you," Dean nods.

"What? No way," Gabriel shouts indignantly, "I'm not worrying for my life! Besides, I'm an archangel; I'm one of the greatest weapons of Heaven. My younger siblings are no fight for me, only Michael would be, but he's not a fool to thin our numbers more. My point is, as you found out earlier, is to try and stay out of the plot. I'm not ashamed about it. I want to make a good decision about whose side I'm on, whom to help at the right time because at this point, things are so messed up even I can't tell good from bad. I don't even know if my brothers, my _kin_ are righteous. And this is deeply, deeply wrong, believe me."

The brothers merely stare at him, unable to say anything to that.

"Now if Castiel knows I've helped you, Michael will know it too sooner or later. It's not Cas' fault, he's weakened right now and in his condition I doubt it he could protect anything about himself, including information. And if Michael knows, he will know I chose a rebel over him when the Apocalypse is knocking on our door. He won't go after me, but he would lose all his trust in me, and believe me, he's not a person who tends to forget things easily. He would turn all my siblings against me, just like he turned them against Castiel. And then I would lose my freedom to choose my side."

"Yeah that would suck," Dean says, but the sarcasm is still there in his voice. "How about I help you choose. It's not only about us, it's about the whole Earth. The Apocalypse must be-"

Gabriel lifts his hand immediately. "Hear me out. I admire you Dean, I really do. Your heart's in the right place, you're righteous everything about you do. But angels are not humans. I see beyond things you could never even imagine. When I say I can't tell good from bad, I don't mean earthly things. I mean heavenly things. The only way I can help you is that I know about Michael's plans, about every move he makes, which won't happen if he doesn't trust me."

"What about Cas?" Dean demands. "Can't you heal him? Ease his pains at least?"

"Castiel will be fine," the archangel says. "He's over the worst. He's got to rest a lot, but he will be all fine."

"He still has the damn hellhound crap in his blood."

"Oh, he will deal with that. Just take care of him like you did this far. Besides, he would feel my grace at once, and then we would be right where we started."

"He thinks it was God," Dean says suddenly in a low voice.

"Pardon?"

"Cas thinks it was God who helped us." The older hunter repeats, and Sam finds himself realizing his brother actually sounds _sad_, "I don't know who I am more disappointed in; God, who didn't give a crap about him, or you, who only helped to earn more time because you still can't stand up against your family."

Gabriel looks at him, his voice now equally sad, "You still don't understand it."

"Yeah, I don't. Maybe I don't even want to. Take us back to Cas then, Gabriel, if you've got nothing more to say."

"Just one more thing," The archangel stands up, "You can help Castiel heal and restore his strength faster."

"How?"

"An angel's pain can also be eased by the hands of a man he truly trusts." Gabriel sounds like he's quoting from something, "Just put your hands on where he's hurting the most."

With that, he steps forward and before Sam or Dean could say a word, he puts a palm to each brother's shoulder. In the blink of an eye they're back in the Impala which is standing peacefully on the side of the road, with Castiel breathing quietly on the backseat. Dean would kick something in his fury over the archangel's disappearance but the only thing near to his feet is the door of the car, and Dean would kick his own leg a thousand times before kicking his baby.

"What do you think he meant by that?" He asks Sam, "Putting my hand where he hurts the most? As if I could mend Cas' wounds with some kind of a lay-on-hand thing…"

"Yeah, that's what he said," Sam nods, deep in thoughts.

"Then why didn't it work when I was tending to his wrist yesterday?"

Sam shrugs. "As I see there are two possible reasons, if we accept that Gabriel had said the truth. Either he doesn't trust you, or… his wrist is not where he hurts the most."

"Then what?" They both look back at the unconscious angel. Then it dawns on Dean. "Oh forget it, man. How the hell could I touch his wings?"

"No idea," Sam grimaces, "really, I mean… where are they, to begin with?"

Dean can't help but admit it's a good question. Castiel is lying on his side, with his back leaning against the back of the seat; there's absolutely no way you could stuck any wings in there, especially the size Dean saw the first time he met the angel.

"I don't know, since they don't belong to the Earth, maybe they're in some kind of another dimension, where they don't get in touch with earthly objects…" Sam's voice trails off, as the speculation is clearly starting to get a little odd.

Dean looks at him with the 'are-you-serious' glare. "Well, that's just another explanation to why I won't be able to…"

They watch the angel for a silent minute before the older Winchester asks the question that was lingering in him for a while, ever since Gabriel's last words to them. "Do you think he trusts me?"

His brother looks back at him without answering.

"Anyway, I think I have to change some of his bandages," Dean changes subject and gets out of the car, heading for the truck for a first aid kit. "Don't want him to bleed out until we get to Bobby's, it's still a long way. We should go right away, before Meg and her fans turn up once again. Do you mind driving a little more?"

Returning, he opens the back door at Castiel's head. "Sorry buddy, nap time's over. Give me some room."

With that, he reaches under the angel's shoulder with one hand, the other getting a grip on the trench coat on Castiel's right arm. "I'd like to be gentle, but you're heavy so I'll have to make it quick," he apologizes as he swiftly pushes the angel upwards and into a sitting position before getting in himself too, preventing Castiel from falling back. "There you go."

The abrupt movement seems to have pulled Castiel back to consciousness, or at least some level of it, Dean thinks. He's no longer leaning on the hunter; his head is moving in an effort most likely to look around and his hands are clumsily groping for the handrail and the back of the driver's seat, trying to find some support.

"No, no, easy, don't do that," Dean catches the angel's injured wrist before he could shift his weight on it in order to support himself. "Just lean back," he says, putting a hand to Cas' shoulder and pushing him back in the seat.

Castiel suddenly flinches, jerking away from Dean with a silent gasp. The hunter frowns, letting go. "What is it?"

He doesn't really expect an answer from a still half passed out angel, but to his surprise, he actually gets one.

"It… burns. I'm burnt." Castiel says and lifts his head more, looking at Dean. His eyes are slightly unfocused and he's awfully pale, but at least he appears to be alert now.

"Whoa, I'm glad you're talking," Dean resist the urge to pat his shoulder, "but what do you mean by that? You hurt?"

"...From the combined spell, yes," the answer is a bit delayed, but it's coherent and even seems to be making sense. On top of that, it doesn't include Anna. "Just… a side effect; it will pass soon."

"You mean the white light of the banishing…"

"It's not really burning," the angel tries to explain, "but it feels like that. The spell has left a trace, I can feel it all over my skin…"

Dean takes a quick look behind them through the rear window, but there's no one following; the highway they've turned onto is empty. It's about four in the morning.

"You mean everywhere?" He asks, turning back.

"Well, it's mostly around where my grace is centered," Castiel makes a short motion with his good hand in front of his chest. "Hands and feet feel almost okay."

"That's good because I came to change your bandages," Dean says, though his worry isn't entirely gone; as he takes the angel's wrist again, he's still a bit too careful. There's a significant amount of blood there; the bandages are soaked and even the arm of the trench coat is stained with red, although Dean can't tell if it's fresh or not.

"Okay, the bones seem to be still in place, it's just the punctures that keep bleeding. You still haven't got your mojo back?"

"No. I'm sorry. I thought it would be back by now. I'll need another day or two."

"It's okay. Don't worry, we'll make it." Dean wraps a new band of gauze around Castiel's hand. "As I said, don't move it too much; it can reopen the cuts. Here you go. The ones on your leg also need a change but I can't do it in the car, so let's just hang on until we get to a safe place, okay?"

"Okay," Castiel nods weakly and closes his eyes.

Dean doesn't want him to drift away again, "How're your wings?"

"Getting better," the angel murmurs without opening his eyes.

"Don't go to sleep," Dean warns, "Rest if you want to but don't pass out, you hear me?"

Castiel nods again, and the hunter wonders how long he will be able to keep this up without him falling asleep too.

There's dark outside with only a tiny stripe of light on the eastern horizon indicating the coming of dawn as the Impala speeds on the highway, leaving the miles behind and getting closer and closer to their asylum.

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**Okay my stories always try to be as canon as possible, so I tried to picture Gabriel as he would have behaved in real. Hope it wasn't too bad.**

**Also, we're nearing the end of this fic. Castiel's really in need of a proper healing, don't you think?**

**If you're still reading, please leave a review!:) See you!**


	9. Chapter 9: Treated

**A/N: Okay everyone, I know I'm a terrible person, not managing to post a single update all the way since March or so... I've been working really hard**... **well I know it's so not an excuse so let's just cut it and jump to the story okay?:) Hope you remember at least some of the things that happened in the previous chapters. It's the last one by the way, because I don't really have ideas where to go further with the plot. There will be a short epilogue posted also this week. I promise.**

**Thanks to InsideYourDreams24 for beta-reading!**

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Chapter 9: Treated

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It's already late in the afternoon, maybe around six pm judging by the darkened color of the sky, when Bobby Singer is jerked awake from his napping by a violent knock on his door. He instinctively sits up in a rush, remaining dazed for about two more seconds before grabbing the rifle that has become his constant company at the sound of unexpected guests arriving.

Who the hell decides to pay him a visit on a quiet Sunday evening?

He could have guessed, of course. Dean and Sam still own the first place of top ten strangest times to turn up. And they don't even come alone this time. Over the threshold, hanging limp between the brothers there's that goddamn angel. However, Bobby can't be really mad at him right now as Castiel looks quite battered.

"Hi Bobby, sorry to bother but could we…" Dean starts, but the older hunter motions to shut up and get in without a word. He then hurries into the kitchen for the beers spiced with holy water. It is also a habit too deep to ever get rid of, nevertheless it is not useless. He never actually thought they would come in handy until one day Sam turned up with a demon having taken control over his body. Since then, Bobby hasn't give up on pouring holy water in beer and other drink bottles and keeping them in the fridge for everyone that would come to him.

Castiel is not unconscious, as Bobby has first thought; he just looks extremely exhausted as if he has been going through a fight which had lasted not hours but weeks, if not even years. He's covered in blood, especially his right arm and left leg, and Dean has already fetched the first aid kit from the bathroom, starting to tend to an especially ugly wound above Castiel's knee.

"Hey, watch out for my couch, son," Bobby warns, "I had the covers cleaned last week. Don't want blood all over on it again."

Sam sits down in front of them, watching the procedure and obediently taking a sip of his beer, and to the older hunter's relief, it doesn't cause him to cough up holy steam.

"Geez, what happened to that boy?"

"Long story," Dean sighs. Castiel's skin is burning hot, and Dean can't determine if it's still the effect of the combined spells, or just a simple fever caused by obvious infection. In fact it freaks him out a bit, but he hopes the angel only needs a couple of hours more until regaining his self-healing ability.

"The point is, he can't heal himself at the moment." Sam helps him out with the explanation.

"How could that be?" Bobby is more than eager to know what could damage an angel to this degree.

Castiel lifts his head from where he has let it fall back against the couch. "Hellhound's… saliva. I was bitten."

"Saving our asses from a horde of demons," Dean adds while pressing down with a clean cloth on the deepest claw marks on Castiel's leg. The angel hisses.

"A dog bite? I assume you will live," Bobby shrugs. "And I thought your kind didn't feel pain."

"My powers are currently… reduced," Castiel explains. "My grace is weakened; it means I'm tied to my vessel more than usual. That's why I feel its injuries clearer right now."

"And that's not all," Sam interjects.

Bobby looks at him questioningly. "What else?"

"Let's say…" Dean starts, "ever thought about what would happen if you used a banishing sigil on an angel trapped inside a circle of holy fire?"

"Um… no, but my guess is the angel would die."

"Well, only if it's made by a human or another angel, as we've learned" Sam says. "But demons, they just don't have what it takes."

Bobby's eyes are wide now. "What, you mean he's undergone this test carried out by demons?"

Dean nods darkly. "It was Meg and one of her minions."

"Jesus." That's the older hunter's only comment as he stands up and goes in the kitchen for a second time, but this time grabbing something stronger. Getting back in the living room, he puts the bottle of whiskey into Cas' good hand. "Drink. It will be better."

Castiel eyes the amber colored liquid suspiciously, not exactly feeling up to obey, but Bobby's eyes stare a hole into his head so he complies, taking three large gulps in a row without a flinch.

"Thank you," he says unsurely, taking a look at the vignette. "I like the… holy flavor in it."

"Drink the whole then," Bobby suggests generously. "I've got plenty of supplies."

It doesn't need to be said twice. In a minute and a half, the angel has sucked the bottle empty, although it was almost full at the beginning.

"Dude, you should go easy on that," Sam advises, and when Dean and Bobby look at him questioningly, he goes on, "I mean, he said he was more tied to the… vessel, if he feels the pain, he'll feel the spirit too."

Dean chuckles. "And since when is that a bad thing?"

"No, I just want to say that…"

"Come on Sam," Bobby cuts him off, "what do you boys usually drink for the pain? Soda?"

"Besides, it's good," Castiel suddenly speaks and yes, there's a definite slurring in his voice by now. "The holy water is refreshening to my grace."

"That's my guy," Dean grins. "Bring him another one. Now we have to see your back, Cas."

The three hunters are faced with the four parallel hellhound claw marks once again as the shirt is pulled off of the angel. The skin around them is angry red and swollen, although they're not bleeding anymore.

"Ew," Dean comments. "Cas, you better hurry with regaining your mojo."

"I'm on it," the angel mutters, this time the slurring is even stronger. The second bottle of whiskey in front of him is already half empty too.

"Sam, get me the disinfectant."

Dean's halfway through cleaning the wounds for the second time when they notice Castiel's growing inability to sit straight. It starts with a little swaying, the next minute Sam's hands fly out to prevent him from collapsing against Bobby's newly cleaned couch with all the blood and disinfectant on his back.

"Easy Cas, there's not much more left."

"Dean, I think we should lay him down."

"Okay, just do it quick."

Once finished with patching up his celestial friend, Dean leans back and takes a tired look around the room. "And now?"

"As I see a good night's sleep would do wonders," Bobby establishes.

"Dean…" Sam starts, pointing at the semi-conscious angel lying on the couch. "Maybe you could try… you know."

Dean looks at him confused for a moment, then realization dawns on him. "No, man, I said forget it. I don't even know how to start!"

"We should try it now, while he's… well, drunk."

"Is he?" With all his habits and all, it's still strange to Dean to hear the word 'drunk' in association with an angel.

"I'm sorry to interfere," Bobby speaks, "but what the hell are you two talking about?"

The brothers exchange a look, then both look down at Castiel. "We'll explain later."

"Cas?" Dean kneels down next to the couch. "Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear," the angel slurs, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"How are your wings?" Dean asks awkwardly.

"Getting better."

Another moment of awkward silence, then the older Winchester asks again. "How queer would it be if I asked where exactly they are?"

Castiel opens one eye to stare somewhat confusedly at him. "I don't really know."

"Then consider it asked."

The angel turns his head slightly as if trying to look over his own shoulder. "They're right here. You can't see them because I haven't made them visible for you; I'm too weak for that right now."

Dean cautiously lifts his hand and reaches above Castiel's back. "You mean I could just stretch my arm and I'd be touching it like…"

He is startled at the angel's sudden jerk and the pain mirrored on Cas' face. "Not touching, you're actually crushing it right now!"

The hunter pulls his hand back as quickly as he can. "Sorry, I didn't think I could actually… I mean what the Hell; they're always behind you, what if someone…"

"No," Castiel cuts him off. "They're hidden from humans. Only the ones I let it to are able to see or touch it."

"So you trust me this much," Dean establishes, shocked over a mixed feeling of honor and gratitude, even despite the fact that he and Sam has suspected it before. Looking up, Dean can see the same shock in his brother's and Bobby's eyes.

"Could be said," Castiel mutters an answer.

"Wait, then why didn't you feel it when I was tending to your wounds?"

"Because," the angel pauses, as if it was causing him difficulties to speak, "you weren't looking for them."

Although Dean doesn't really get it how it is an answer to his question, he doesn't keep asking. Instead, he reaches into the air above Castiel's back once again, this time a lot more carefully, searching for something to touch, doesn't really know what exactly, but then suddenly he thinks he can feel something. It's just slightly more than nothing, a little denseness of air, silky and sharp at the same time. And Dean suddenly becomes aware of the pale, yellow light shining from the end of his fingers.

"What the… what is that?"

"Must be the energy," Castiel mutters with a heavy tongue; Dean can barely understand him.

"Am I giving you energy?"

"Not exactly," the angel slurs, "if my grace is in need of power and finds a nearby source, it automatically clings to it. I'm leeching your energy right now."

Dean still can't really determine if this is good or not. "What should I do?"

There's a significantly longer time of silence before Castiel answers again. "Nothing. Step away from me if you wish to stop or start feeling tired."

"Okay," Dean mutters as he keeps his hand in the air, keeps groping that soft mass of air that feels like slipping from his fingers every now and then and then coming back again in the cadence of the angel's breathing. It is close to hypnotic; the calmness that has embraced him since the moment he actually touched the wing was so… unearthly, he couldn't define it with other words. A part from the peace of heaven that only an angel could possess. Dean closes his eyes as he feels himself becoming one with that peace, a part of him hoping this moment would never end.

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**Last week's episode was so crucial to me, breaking this trust between Dean and Castiel that I love so much!:( Maybe it has inspired me during the writing of this chapter, I so wish those times of reliance and friendship would return in the show!**


	10. Chapter 10: Epilogue

**A/N: I'm terribly sorry for having not posted this earlier. Now I'm sure no one remembers where we left off... Then read the story again!:) So here's the epilogue I promised, to end the story properly. Hope you'll like it!**

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Epilogue

Next morning finds him in one of Bobby's worn armchairs, apparently having fallen asleep. Dean cracks open his eyes only a little so that he can have a look around the room then blinks around with half-closed eyelids. The feeling he's experiencing is quite hard to define; he's comfortable and warm and sleepy, a bit like having a hangover without the headache, and suddenly finds there's no place more peaceful right now than Bobby Singer's old living room with the morning sunlight shining palely through the windows.

A moment later he realizes something's wrong. No, not entirely wrong, it's more like something's missing from his vision, like he should be seeing something he doesn't. Then it occurs to him.

The couch is empty.

For a second he's unsure about whom he should see on it, but as he opens his eyes fully and sits up, becoming more alert, he spots the person he has been looking for. Castiel is sitting on the edge of the couch, apparently trying to get dressed in the right way.

"Cas?" Dean croaks. "What are you doing?"

The angel frowns and looks up at him and everything is just so _natural _about his look. "I'm putting my shirt on," he answers matter-of-factly.

"Yeah, I see that," Dean rolls his eyes and almost chuckles at the sight of Castiel's 'why did you ask then' face. "The question is, how are you?"

"I'm fine," the angel replies, and before Dean could object, he goes on, "I really am. My system has finally overcome Cerberus' poison. My healing ability's almost fully back."

Dean feels relief taking over him. "Let me take a look then."

Castiel obediently lifts his hand to show the hunter his wrist, even letting Dean pull the shirt he has just gotten into, off him. There are four pink stripes on his back where the deep claw marks used to be and the wrist looks even better; only a couple of pale, reddish smudges indicate the spots where vicious teeth have once torn skin and bone.

"Wow, that's really good," the hunter admits. "That's what I call a quick healing, Cas."

The angel looks him in the eye with a serious expression. "I wouldn't have made it without your help. You even weakened yourself to give energy to me. Thank you, Dean."

Dean feels almost ridiculously abashed. "Yeah, well, anytime, Cas. You can count on me."

"That's good to know." The angel nods, but the blue gaze is still fixed on Dean. "However, there's one thing I don't really understand. You seemed like you… knew you could give me power. But this kind of information is one not everybody can give to you."

Dean knows right away there's no point in lying to Castiel, especially now that he has regained control over his powers. "Yeah well… I'm sorry, but we have been asked not to reveal their identity to you."

Confusion is clearly written on Castiel's face. "I don't understand. An angel has helped us, helped me, but still does not want to be known about?"

Dean's searching for the right words. "Let's just say that they haven't really figured out whose side to choose yet."

Castiel doesn't ask more questions, just looks in front of himself, getting lost in his thoughts, and Dean has a strong conjecture that he already knows who they're talking about.

"Alright then, you're good to go," the hunter claps and stands up. "Where're the others?"

He finds Sam in the kitchen, eating something that looks too much like a half-burned omelet.

"Have you seen Cas? He finally seems okay." Dean asks as he opens the fridge, looking for something less disgusting.

"Yep, he's been up since about an hour ago, thanks to the boost you gave him," Sam replies with a full mouth. "You can't tell me any news, sleepyhead."

"Do you think it really counted that much?"

Sam shrugs, swallowing. "Dude, I saw how bad off he was yesterday, and that your fingers were shining until you fell on the floor, sound asleep."

Dean scratches the back of his head. "Yeah well… I suppose I didn't realize I was getting tired."

"Dean."

Both Winchesters turn their heads and look in the direction of the familiar gruff voice.

"I think I'm going to need your help with the tie."

Sam merely raises an eyebrow at the sight in front of them. Castiel is standing in the door, fully clothed, although there's not a stain anymore on his trench coat and suit and shirt, and his hands are fumbling with a ridiculously giant tie knot at his neck.

"Whoa, wait," Dean hurries over to him. "You're gonna strangle yourself. Let me help."

"Thank you. For everything."

The tone of his voice raises suspicion in the hunter's mind. "Wait, you're not gonna fly off are you?"

Castiel, who has already half turned like he was about to leave, stops in the middle of the movement. "I have a mission."

"I know, finding God," Dean makes a frustrated motion with his hand. "But can't that wait a little? I mean, you're just out of the woods."

The angel looks at him with a somewhat confused expression, as if he wasn't sure he has heard it right. "I'm healed. My powers are back. You don't need to worry about me anymore."

"Come on, man, just half an hour."

Castiel's confusion only deepens. "What do you want to do in half an hour?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Nothing, just kind of… be glad that you're back. We deserve a little celebrating, don't we?"

The angel looks away, considering the option for a moment. "Maybe."

"Let's make a deal," the older Winchester offers. "You stay for a little longer, and I'll give you some painkillers. Come on, don't tell me that two whole bottles of whiskey didn't leave your head without a little pounding at least, because I won't believe it."

Castiel stares at him for a moment then looks down, defeated. "Fine. But just half an hour."

"Half an hour. Deal."

There's a long absent smile appearing on Sam's face while Dean pulls a bottle of pills out of his pocket.

"I think God can wait that much," Castiel admits as he sits down at the table beside the brothers. The Apocalypse might be at the gates, God might be turning his back on them, but a peaceful morning with probably the only friends he has is more tempting at the moment than every problem of the world he's supposed to solve.

And deep down he knows he won't regret choosing the former over the latter this time.

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**Thanks to everyone who has been sticking with this story all the way; thank you for the wonderful reviews, for adding it to story alert/favorite stories. But don't worry, you'll be hearing from me soon, I have more stories to come!:)**

**See ya,**

FFV


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